Of Love and Madness Christine's Story
by Chloe McClure
Summary: The setting for this story is a mix of the 2004 musical and Kay's novel. I have relied heavily on the musical for Madame Giry, Meg, Christine and Raoul, but have utilized Kay's Erik almost exclusively. Please read and review. Thank you!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

As I sit here writing this, I am hardly able to believe the events took place so many years ago. They are as fresh to me as if they happened only yesterday. And yet, they seem as though they happened to someone else. Perhaps they did. I am not the person I was then. I hardly know the girl who gave her heart so rashly; that girl whose beauty and youth have now faded to a distant memory. I do not regret the choices I made. There have been many mistakes, I confess, but I will not regret even one moment. How could I? I have known love like few others have ever known. No, I can not regret my past when it has borne such beautiful fruit. And that is the reason I must tell my tale. I will take you back there and you may judge for yourself the choices I have made and the consequences of those choices.

Very few people know what really happened the night of the fire. Most believe it to have been a tragic accident that no one could have foreseen, let alone prevented. The De Chagny family did much to perpetuate that belief in their desire to avoid any more scandal than had already been accrued. Raoul De Chagny had ignited the fuels of gossip by becoming enamored of me, an actress with nothing to recommend her. No family, no dowry, no ties to society. When the Opera Populaire went up in flames, no doubt the De Chagny family hoped that I would disappear with it. Certainly they did not expect to find Raoul and me in their drawing room that night.

"Raoul, you can not be serious." Raoul's mother, the Countess De Chagny, sank down onto a settee. "Surely this is another of your jests!"

Raoul's father, the Earl, stood stiffly by the fireplace, gazing intently into the flames, a frown furrowing his brow. Slowly he turned to regard Raoul and then me. He paused, looking into my eyes for a long moment before returning his gaze to Raoul and speaking.

"Raoul, you must know how disappointed I am that you are coming to us this way. You know how important it is that you make an advantageous marriage. In fact, we have been in negotiations with the DeVilliers family concerning their daughter, Claudia. We had hoped to share this with you at dinner this evening. And now you come to us with the news that you have already proposed marriage to Miss Daae! I hardly know what to say! You know that I can not give you my blessing in this."

"I have no need of your blessing, Father". Raoul reached for my hand and drew me to his side. "Christine and I will be married as soon as we are able to make the necessary arrangements. I love her and I am prepared to face any consequences that may come of our marriage. I am sorry to have disappointed you, but surely you realize that my marriage is not as important as Charles'. As the younger son, we both know that I have more freedom in my choice of bride."

"Yes, you have more freedom that is true, but you still have an obligation to uphold our family name, to marry someone who is of your own station in life. Raoul, think of what you are doing. She is an actress! What, then, of any children you may have? What kind of environment is the theatre to expose children to?" The Earl De Chagny now gripped the back of the settee upon which his wife sat, silent.

"Christine is no longer an actress, Father. She will manage our home and our children as any lady would. She is prepared to leave the stage to be my wife."

At this, I glanced quickly up at Raoul's face. We had not discussed whether or not I would continue at the Opera after our marriage. I had assumed that Raoul would support me if I chose to continue my career. Music was, after all, in my soul. I could not forsake it completely, could I? Raoul squeezed my hand reassuringly, but at that moment, I was not reassured.

"Raoul, my son, I know that you imagine you love this girl, but you can not marry her! What dowry does she bring? What family does she have? How do you know that she is not marrying you simply because you are the Vicomte De Chagny and have such wealth at your disposal as she has likely not seen in her lifetime! Come now, think clearly for once in your damned life! It is time you were made to be responsible. I see now I have been far too lenient with you and now you mean to take advantage of my generous nature by bringing this...this.. _woman_ into our home and expecting your mother and me to simply accept that this is your choice? That, I will not do. I will not sit idly by while your new bride squanders your fortune, gallivanting about with all manner of men..."

"You go too far, Father," Raoul interrupted, his voice now quiet. "Christine will be my wife and you will accord her the respect that she is entitled to as my fiancé. She is a good and virtuous woman and I will not have her name impugned by anyone, not even you. I am sorry that you are disappointed in my choice of wife, but nevertheless we shall be wed within the month. I had hoped that you would be more accepting, but I see now that my hope was misplaced. I do continue to hope that you will someday accept that Christine and I love each other and nothing you can say or do will change that. And now, Father, Mother, I bid you good evening. Come, Christine."

Raoul started toward the door when his mother spoke quietly. "Raoul, wait."

Raoul halted and turned to his mother with a questioning look upon his face.

"Where will you go?", she asked

"I will take her to my apartments in the city. She will be comfortable there. As for me, I shall procure a room at the hotel until we are married."

The Countess rose and walked toward us. She appeared to come to a decision within herself as she turned to me with a slight smile. "Nonsense," she said. "Miss Daae will stay here. There is no reason that you should be put out of your apartments when we have plenty of room here."

The Earl turned from the fire he had been dourly contemplating. "Cecelia! What...?"

"It is settled," Countess De Chagny interrupted quietly as she turned to regard her husband. "Raoul and Christine intend to be married and there is nothing that you or I can do about it. We have borne enough scandal without our son ensconcing his fiancé in his apartments. If Raoul wishes to wed Miss Daae, then it shall be done with propriety and decorum. We may not be happy with his choice, Henri, but Raoul is still our son and I will not allow you to alienate him with your bellowing and blustering." She turned back to me, then and offered her hand to me. "Come, Miss Daae. I will show you to your room. You must be absolutely exhausted after all you have been through this evening."

Gripping my hand in hers she drew me toward the door. I glanced over my shoulder at Raoul as the Countess led me from the room. He nodded to me almost imperceptibly and I was reassured somewhat. I allowed her to lead me through the hallway and up a gently winding staircase to the second floor. I stared openly at the beautifully lavish décor as we made our way through the second floor hallway.

I am embarrassed to say I was still gawking when we came to a stop before a set of double doors. "Here we are, Dear," she said, pushing the doors open. "I hope you will be comfortable here during your stay. I shall send Monique up to you with some tea and a change of clothes. I assume that you have not brought any with you, as you had to flee the opera house so quickly..." she hesitated then.

"You are very kind, my Lady. I am sure I shall be most comfortable. I am indebted to you for your kindness."

"Not at all. We shall soon be family, no?", she offered me a tentative smile. "We can talk more tomorrow. You must be very tired from your ordeal this evening. Rest tonight, Miss Daae. We shall sort all of this out tomorrow."

"Thank you, my Lady, but please, call me Christine."

"Christine, then. Monique will be up soon with your tea. Sleep well, ma cherie." She squeezed my hand once, then turned back the way we had come.

I had only stepped into the room when a voice behind me spoke. "Shall I light the lamps for you before I fetch your tea, Mademoiselle?" I turned to find a maid standing just outside the door. She must have met the Countess on the stairs after she left me.

I smiled. "You must be Monique."

"Yes, Mademoiselle" She inclined her head in a slight nod. "Shall I light the lamps for you?" she repeated.

"Yes, thank you," I replied. Monique busied herself lighting the lamps while I gazed about the room in wonder. The walls were covered in pale blue silk damask and on the tall windows, midnight blue silk curtains hung, tied back with shimmery silver ties. The bed was made of carved mahogany and dominated the room. It was so large that I imagined I could fit my entire ballet troupe in it! On the wall facing the foot of the bed was a large marble fireplace which Monique was now busily lighting. I sank down into a chair by the fireplace as Monique finished lighting the fire. She inclined her head to me again in that same slight nod before taking her leave.

I sat there before the fire, finally alone with my thoughts. The events of the day suddenly came rushing in upon me. Now that there was nothing to distract me, my thoughts drifted back to the Opera and the Phantom, my Angel of Music. I found myself wondering where he was, hoping that he was now far away from the angry mob that had been bent on hunting down the "Opera Ghost". Knowing what resources he had at his disposal, I doubted he would be so easily captured. Closing my eyes, I pictured him again, standing before me, his eyes pleading with me to love him, to choose him. I could see again the flame that had leapt into his eyes as I reached up and drew his misformed face to mine and kissed his cold lips. He had immediately stiffened as our lips touched, then, just as suddenly, he had responded by drawing me to him with his free arm kissing me as if he thought I might disappear at any moment. I had been overwhelmed by the flood of feeling that had washed over me as my lips met his, a strange mixture of fear, desire, revulsion and confusion. Suddenly afraid, I pulled back, my heart beating wildly. When I opened my eyes and looked back up into his golden-green ones, I had seen tears there and it had been my undoing. My arms went about his neck and I forgot about Raoul, about the Opera, about everyone and everything but this moment with my Angel, finally in my arms. I kissed him then, with my whole heart and nothing else existed but he, my Angel, my love. I remember being startled when he broke away from me suddenly. Blinking, the world slowly came back into focus for me. I looked up at him questioningly and saw that his tears had overflowed and now spilled down his cheeks. "Go", he had spat, pushing me away...

My thoughts were interrupted by Monique's knock at the door. Sighing, I walked over and opened the door, allowing her inside. Behind her came two other maids, one carrying a tray, the other carrying what looked to be clothing. They quickly set up a tray of hot tea, bread and fruit. Monique took the bundle from the second girl and laid out a dressing gown and nightshift on the bed. They left me, once again, with Monique promising to be back in the morning with more clothing. I sat down before the tray and poured myself some tea. I hadn't realized that I was hungry until then. I finished the bread and fruit and most of the tea, then went to the bed and picked up the nightshift. Looking at it, I suddenly became aware that I was still wearing the wedding dress that the Phantom had insisted that I put on. Blushing, I reached around to unfasten the ties. What a picture I must have presented to the Earl and Countess! Quickly, I stripped off the dress and donned the nightshift. I doused the lamps, then climbed into the huge bed. I knew I would not be able to sleep, but before long, I was descending into darkness. I dreamed of angels with the faces of demons singing to me with beautiful, otherworldly voices, luring, seducing me into madness.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next month passed in a whirlwind of activity for me as preparations were made for the wedding. Raoul's parents must have come to some understanding, for his father no longer protested our marriage, though he was always rather short with me when we chanced to meet. The Countess, by contrast, was unfailingly kind to me and took me under her wing, so to speak, helping me to learn the social graces of which I was sadly ignorant. She persuaded Raoul to postpone the marriage for at least six months so that we may have a proper wedding. Raoul, for his part, grew ever more attentive, presenting me with gifts and flowers, taking me to the park where we walked for hours, laughing and teasing, planning our life together. Each night I fell into bed, completely exhausted, nearly asleep before my head touched the pillow. It was a time, during which, I should have been blissfully happy.

I had taken to rising before dawn each morning, cherishing those moments of solitude. I would slip on my dressing gown and sit by the fire, letting my mind wander where it would. Most often, I found it returning to the opera house and all that had taken place. I could not help but wonder what had become of my Angel. I had not dared return to the opera house since the night of the fire. I had learned, from Raoul, that the damage had been extensive. It could take years to rebuild the destroyed opera house, he had told me. Some of what I had been feeling must have been evident in my expression for Raoul hurried to assure me that he had already taken steps to ensure that the opera house was restored. He had, in fact, already acquired contractors to begin rebuilding in the spring. My relief, at hearing this was great, however, it did not ease that gnawing sense of unease that had been growing steadily within me since I had come to stay with Raoul's family.

It was during one of my morning contemplations that I first began to think that the only thing that would cure me of this odd malady was for me to go visit Madame Giry. I knew that she and Meg, along with the rest of the opera staff, had been forced to seek rooms after the fire as the ones in the opera house were now uninhabitable. It wouldn't be difficult to find them and, after all, I hadn't seen either of them since the fire. I had received a note from Madame Giry about a week after I came to stay with the De Chagny's inquiring after my well being. I had answered in kind, explaining that I was content and happy and inviting her to visit and to please bring Meg round to see me once they had settled in to their new quarters and were up to visiting. I had heard nothing further and I longed to see them both, but I knew, even then, that there was more to it. I knew that Madame Giry had been closer to the Phantom than anyone else at the opera. If anyone knew what had become of him she would. I had nearly convinced myself that my concern was only natural as he had been my tutor for so many years. Once I was able to ascertain that he was alive and well, I would be able to put it all out of my mind and move on with my new life with Raoul. Once I had decided upon this course of action, I quickly began to make plans.

Nearly two months after I arrived at the De Chagny household, I found myself in their liveried carriage, being driven to the small home that Madame Giry now shared with Meg. I had sent a note the preceding day so as not to come upon them unexpectedly. As the footman helped me down from the carriage, Meg rushed from the house and nearly bowled me over in her eagerness to embrace me. I was not prepared for the rush of emotions I felt when I saw her. Immediately, my eyes filled with tears as I realized how much I had missed them both.

"Oh, Christine, I have missed you so much!" Meg cried as she stepped back to look at me. "It has been so long since I've seen you, I hardly recognize you! Oh, do come inside so that Mama can have a look at you. You've lost weight and you hadn't any to spare in the first place!"

Meg chattered on as she led me up the front steps of the little chateau and into the foyer. I had just removed my cloak when I looked up and saw Madame Giry in the doorway leading to the small kitchen.

"Oh my Christine," was all she said as she held her arms out to me. I crossed the room and flung my arms around her, suddenly sobbing as if all the world were coming to an end. All of the pent up emotions just seemed to come pouring out in a flood as I stood there crying into her shoulder. She had been a mother to me after my father died and I hadn't realized how I had needed to see her and talk to her about all that had happened.

Madame Giry allowed me to gather my senses while she busied herself preparing lunch for Meg and me. Feeling a bit embarrassed by my outburst, I washed my face and composed myself while Madame Giry and Meg laid out our tea and sandwiches in her small drawing room. We talked of insignificant things while we ate, each of us reluctant to broach the subject that lay like a weight upon all our minds. When we had finished our lunch, I followed Madame Giry into the kitchen with the tea tray.

"My Christine, I am so happy to see you", Madame Giry said, taking the tea tray from me and setting it upon a nearby table. "There is something else you wish to speak to me about, though, isn't there?"

"Yes, Madame," I answered quietly.

"Then, come into the drawing room where we will be comfortable. Agnes will be in later to help so, please don't worry about helping clean up." I followed her back into the drawing room where Meg remained, poking at the dying remains of the fire. I settled into a large, comfortable chair near the fire and Madame sat across from me while Meg paced restlessly around the small room.

I began with the night of the fire and told everything, ending with the wedding plans and my unexplainable sense of growing apprehension. When I had finished, the room was silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the mantel. Even Meg had ceased her pacing and now perched on the small settee by the entrance.

Madame Giry rose and gazed into the fire for what seemed like an eternity before she turned back to me, her eyes boring into mine with their usual sharpness. I remembered suddenly all the times that Meg and I had gotten up to some mischief. Madame Giry had known that the best way to find out what we'd been up to was to fix me with that intent stare. She knew I could not bear it for long before I tearfully confessed all of our crimes. Madame must have sensed the direction of my thoughts for she suddenly smiled and took my hands in hers.

"My dear Christine, after all you have been through, I would not blame you if you never wanted to see the opera or any associated with it ever again. I fear that I share responsibility for all that has happened. If only I had realized earlier that Erik's obsession had grown into madness. By the time my eyes were opened to the truth, it was too late. He had spirited you away to his dungeons under the opera house. Until then I had convinced myself that love would soften his violent temper. I believed his love for you would be his salvation, you see. If anyone could save Erik from himself, it was you, Ma Cherie. But Erik had never been shown love and so he did not know how to give love. He was unable to love without letting his love be poisoned by his fear and jealousy. I was sorely afraid that he would kill you and the Vicomte both in his rage. But I, once again, underestimated him. When all is said and done he loves you too much to condemn you to a life of what would amount to imprisonment. And now you have come here to ask me if I know his whereabouts and if he is well."

"Yes, Madame. I would know that he is well. I...," I fell silent, unable to say what was in my heart, but determined to know the truth.

Madame Giry sighed and turned to the fire once again. "He is alive and well. I have seen him several times since the fire, and I assure you that, physically, he is well. He is not the same, however. The life has gone from his eyes. He refuses to hear your name spoken. He has not composed at all and only comes out of his underground home to check in on Meg and me, to make sure we have all that we need."

I can not describe the immense relief I felt upon hearing that he was alive, but to learn how he had changed quickly swept all relief away. I didn't realize that I was clutching the arms of the chair in a white knuckled grip until I felt Meg's hand close over mine.

"Christine, you must put all thought of the opera and Monsieur Erik from your mind," she implored. "Maman and I will look after him as much as we are able to. You must concentrate on the Vicomte and your future together."

"Meg is right, my dear. You can only bring more pain if you continue to dwell upon the past. It is time for you to let it go," Madame Giry said gently. "I know that it is hard to let go, but you must try. For your sake and the Vicomte's." Her gaze met mine then. "And for Erik's."

I looked away. There were so many warring emotions within me that I began to be afraid that I may be going mad. I loved Raoul, so why could I not just be relieved that Erik was well and let it go? I had no answer, and there wasn't one to be found within the dancing flames of the fireplace.

"You are right, as usual," I said with a weary sigh. "I have no wish to hurt Erik any further. But, Madame, I am unable to put him completely from my mind. I love Raoul and I want only to be a good and loving wife to him when we are married, but I fear that I will never be free from Erik. Worse, I am not certain that I want to be free! Oh, Madame, I am so confused! I thought I had put it all in the past and that I would simply make sure that he was well and that would set my mind at ease, but it has only served to confuse me more."

I saw Madame Giry and Meg exchange a glance, then Meg rose and went to the kitchen. She was soon back with a tray bearing more tea. I reflected that it seemed as if every time one was in emotional distress all that was needed to bring about clarity of thought was some hot tea. The absurdity of it hit me and I was suddenly seized with a hysterical need to laugh. I am ashamed to say I burst out in loud guffaws that eventually gave way to intermittent, tear filled chuckles and sniffs. Poor Meg looked helplessly at Madame Giry who gazed at me, concern evident in her eyes. Unfortunately, this set me off again and Meg quickly set the tea tray down and asked me if I were quite all right. Unable to answer, I simply nodded. The laughter eventually died away and I felt lighter somehow. I had not laughed like that since Meg and I were still young and running around the opera house getting into all sorts of mischief. I looked up and Meg was smiling at me uncertainly.

"I am all right," I assured them both. "I have only just realized how fortunate I am to have both of you. When Papa died, I was so afraid that I would be turned out to live in the streets. I am indebted to you for all you have done for me."

I stayed at Madame Giry's home until it had begun to grow dark outside. I had not realized how late it was getting, I was enjoying my visit so much. After my hysterical outburst, our conversation had turned to other things. Meg had filled me in on the latest gossip concerning the opera cast and staff. When I glanced at the clock on the mantel I realized how late it had gotten.

"Oh my! I'm afraid the time has quite gotten away from me." I said, dismayed. "I was having such a wonderful time I didn't even give a thought to the hour." I rose, setting my empty tea cup down on the tray.

Meg quickly moved to block my way to the door. "Christine, it is far too late for you to attempt to go back now. You will stay here tonight."

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly stay. They'll be wondering what has become of me and," I started.

"No, Christine. Meg is right. You should stay here tonight. No lady should be out alone after dark. No, not even with a driver." Madame Giry raised a hand to quell my protests. "Besides, my dear, that driver is at least seventy-five by the look of him. No, you will stay here, no more argument. We shall simply send a note back with the driver and he can return for you first thing in the morning. I am certain Raoul would agree that you should stay. It is decided, then. Meg, be a dear and fetch Christine something to sleep in. We are very fortunate to have an extra guest room here, so don't worry that you are imposing. We shall be absolutely delighted to have you here for the evening. Now, I am going to inform Agnes that we shall need an extra setting at dinner for our guest." With that she turned and strode briskly through the door to the kitchen and was gone. I stood there for a moment, unsure, then decided that perhaps Meg and Madame were right. I busied myself cleaning up our empty tea cups.

After a wonderful dinner, we moved back to the drawing room and, once again, fell into an easy camaraderie. Not long after dinner, Meg and I were both suppressing yawns and Madame Giry insisted that we get to bed. Meg stood and said, "Come, Christine, I'll show you to your room." She linked her arm through mine and led me down a narrow hallway past the stairs. We came to a small room at the end of the corridor and she moved to light a small gas lantern that was hung outside the door. Inside, the flickering light shone upon a modest room, with walls a lovely pale purple color. There was a small bed in one corner and a wash stand beside the armoire. I saw that Meg had already laid out a dressing gown for me.

"Thank you, Meg," I said, kissing her and bidding her good night. When I was alone, I looked again around the room, thinking it was quite lovely and cozy. I hurriedly removed my gown and slipped on the shift Meg had left for me, then got into the small bed. Closing my eyes, I began to drift toward sleep.

I don't know how much later it was when I was awakened by the sound of voices in the kitchen. My first thought was that Madame Giry must be speaking to her housekeeper, Agnes, and I closed my eyes to go back to sleep. Then I heard his voice. My eyes flew open and I sat up. It was Erik! He was here! I grabbed the sheets and flung them back. I was scrambling out of bed, mindlessly, intending I know not what; my one thought was that I must see him. He was here, and I was going to him, regardless of the consequences, when good sense once again prevailed. I stopped, my hand on the door. Closing my eyes, I laid my forehead against the cold wood of the door and tears filled my eyes. I knew I could not go to him. Madame Giry had warned me that I would only hurt him more if I did not let him go. I knew this was true, but how I longed to see him! I pressed my ear against the door, but was unable to make out what they were saying. Silently, I crept back into my bed and pulled the sheets up to my chin, using them as armor against the pain. I lay there, looking out the darkened window for what seemed like hours, listening to the cherished sound of his beautiful voice in the other room.

I slowly became aware that the voices had ceased and I now heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Madame Giry? No, the steps were too heavy for her small frame. My heart began to pound in my chest as I watched the door intently. The footsteps stopped at my door and I waited, hardly daring to breathe. The knob began to turn and I knew an instant of panic before I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to feign sleep. I knew it was Erik and I was terribly afraid he could hear the pounding of my heart in my breast. I made myself take slow even breaths even though my pulse was racing. He walked slowly across the room to stand beside the small bed. I could hear his ragged breathing in the dark along with the whisper of his cloak as he moved through the darkness. I heard him sit down in the chair by the bed and I was once again filled with panic. I knew I couldn't keep up this facade very long. When his fingers brushed my cheek, I could no longer pretend. I opened my eyes and gazed up at him. His eyes widened in surprise, but he did not move away. Slowly I raised up on one elbow until my face was inches from his. I reached up with one free hand and caressed his masked cheek. I was beyond thinking, I could only feel and react. I pulled the mask away and touched his cold, bare skin. I heard his indrawn breath as I touched him, but still he did not move back. His breathing became shallow as I pulled his face to mine and our lips met. I would look back on this later and blush at my boldness, but in that moment, I was not thinking of what I was doing. It was as if some power beyond us both had taken hold. I felt his poor deformed lips yield beneath mine and soon we were melded into one. His arms went around me and nearly lifted me from the bed and I clung to him as if I never meant to let him go. Our kiss deepened and soon we were both breathless. I never wanted it to end. When he finally broke the kiss, I tightened my arms around him and buried my face in his thin chest. I could hear his heart beating rapidly against his ribs. We remained like that for a moment, slowly returning to reality. I finally dared to look up at his face and saw that his eyes were once again filled with tears and something else, some emotion I did not recognize.

"Erik...," I breathed his name like a prayer against his shirt. I felt him stiffen and my heart plummeted. "No.." I pulled him closer, but he grasped me by my arms and set me away from him. I could feel that he was now shaking. When I looked into his eyes now, they were filled with rage.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I sat looking out the small window of the bedroom watching the sun rise as tears ran, unchecked, down my cheeks. I can not say now if I wept for myself, for Erik or for Raoul. Perhaps I wept for all of us as our fates seemed to be entangled in each others for good or for ill. I could hardly believe what had happened the night before. What utter madness had possessed me? I had asked myself this question so many times over the preceding hours that I had grown tired of searching my heart for an answer. I supposed that I had, in a childish way, dreamed that I could save Erik. I laughed bitterly at the thought. Why had I imagined that he needed saving? And oh what could I have been thinking to make such a complete fool of myself?

When Erik had pulled away from our kiss, it seemed that I was in a pleasant daze. The darkness had emboldened me and I was reluctant to return to harsh reality. My arms had tightened around him almost of their own accord and I was pulling him back to me when suddenly, inexplicably, I thought of Raoul and what I had just done. An involuntary gasp of horror was past my lips before I realized it and the feeling must have shown on my face when I looked up into Erik's maskless gaze for he grasped my upper arms and set me farther away from him. His eyes darkened with rage as his hands dropped to his sides and quickly clenched into fists and I was taken by a sudden fear of him. I shrank away, toward the other side of the narrow bed upon which I was kneeling.

"Why do you flee, Christine? Is this not what you wanted? A midnight tryst with your lover? Oh, I see. I am not the lover you had in mind, am I?" He laughed, mocking me, his eyes hard. "I imagine you had quite a shock, did you not, when you awakened from a pleasant dream of your Vicomte only to find you were embracing a demon."

"Erik, no, that is not.."

"Do not insult my intelligence, Christine, for my patience with you has finally reached an end. Many, before you, have made assumptions about my intelligence based upon my countenance, but those have proven to be very deadly assumptions indeed. I had thought you capable of higher thought processes than that. It seems you are destined to be a disappointment to me on all fronts, doesn't it?"

"You must listen to me! I was not dreaming of Raoul. I only thought that you...that I..." I struggled, trying to find the words to explain all that I had felt when he interrupted me again.

"Ah, you have been learning the ways of the aristocracy only too well, my little Angel. The lies come so easily from your lips now. Do you think me a fool, Christine? No, you are simply too immature or, perhaps, too self absorbed, to fully grasp the impacts of your ill-conceived actions. I should have realized from the beginning that your resemblance to my mother was not restricted to beauty alone. I see I have surprised you." His lips drew back in another mocking smile, his eyes locked on mine, glittering in the moonlight. "Perhaps you did not realize that a monster such as myself could possibly have been begotten upon some poor, unsuspecting woman. Well, you are not alone, my dear. My mother was quite surprised by what she had brought into this world. The first task she set about after my birth was to fashion a mask for me so that she would not have to look upon my face. But at least my mother was consistent. She was unfailingly cold and cruel. The only thing I wanted from her was her love. Her acceptance. Just to have her look upon me or touch me with kindness or love _just once, _ I think, would have been enough for me."

"Oh, Erik. I didn't know," I started toward him, but he turned from me abrubtly.

"Do not presume that I am in need of your pity, Mademoiselle. I am far beyond such childish notions of love. I neither need, nor want your compassion. You see, Christine, I have told you this so that you will understand. I believed that I loved you, but I did not. I loved an illusion. Your resemblance to my mother was.. _is_...so close that you could have been her twin." At this he turned and faced me, his face once again close to mine, the glittering rage in his eyes now dampened to a smoldering anger. "No, Christine, it was never you that I loved. It was my mother's love that I sought without realizing it. You were simply the medium through which I attempted to bring about the impossible."

I sank back onto the bed and turned to look out the window. Unable to speak, I stared out into the darkness, tears falling onto my hands as they lay limply in my lap.

"Ah, now you understand," he whispered. "Tell me, Madamemoiselle, do you weep for me or for yourself?"

Swiftly, he turned and walked from the room, the click of his heels echoing on the wooden floor.

Madame Giry entered just as the sun had cleared the distant mountains. If she realized what had taken place the night before, she gave no indication as she helped me to dress. I barely heard her words as I allowed myself to be led from the room and down the hall. I moved about as one in a dream, only marginally conscious of my surroundings. I sipped tea and gazed into the fireplace, unseeing as I awaited the De Chagny carriage. I was aware of several concerned glances exchanged between Madame Giry and Meg as they made small talk. I smiled politely at them and answered each question with what must have been acceptable responses, but my mind was far away. My heart was breaking into what felt like a thousand pieces with each beat.

When the driver knocked upon the door, I rose woodenly and hugged both Madame and Meg. Smiling, I told them both they simply _must_ come round to see me, and soon. Meg smiled back, a bit reluctantly and agreed that they would come by as soon as they were able. I turned and strode down the walkway toward the carriage. The door opened from inside before I could reach for it and Raoul's hand was upon mine, helping me into the carriage. I plastered another fake smile upon my face and hoped that he wouldn't look too closely, but I needn't have worried. He, too, seemed preoccupied as he gazed out the window.

The carriage lurched out into the cobbled street and Raoul and I rode in silence for a few moments, each of us absorbed in our own thoughts. When he finally spoke, Raoul's voice was oddly thick and my attention immediately focused on him, sensing the pain in his words.

"We received word last night that my older brother, Charles, had been in a riding accident," he paused, took a shaky breath and continued. "He died in the night. He had been thrown from his horse during his morning ride. His neck was broken in the fall and though the doctor tried to save him, ultimately, there was nothing he could do."

I reached out for him wordlessly, instinctively offering him comfort, knowing the pain of losing someone close to you. I held him close while he cried, whispering soothing words into his ear until he had composed himself again. He straightened in his seat and looked at me gratefully. Pulling me to him, he kissed me softly, then just held me for the remainder of the ride. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and shoved away all of my own emotional turmoil. What was my pain, after all, when compared to the grief of losing a loved one to death? And so I determined that I would be there for Raoul, to comfort him all that I could.

When we reached the De Chagny home, I quickly made my way to my room to bathe and change so that I might be presentable when I went down to offer my condolences to the Earl and Countess. Monique was at my side within moments, and helped me to bathe and dress quickly. Once I was certain of my presentability, I made my way back down the stairs to the library. As I drew closer to the double doors, I heard the Earl speaking . I placed my hand upon the door and was about to push it open, when I heard my name. I stopped, my hand still poised upon the door and listened, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Raoul, I know this is hard to hear. Especially now, but it is something that we have to think about. I know you have agreed to postpone your wedding to Miss Daae for six months and that is well, but now that Charles is gone..." At this, the Earl's voice broke and it was silent for a moment before he went on. "Now that Charles is gone, you are the heir. You know what that entails, Raoul."

"Father, Charles has not even been buried yet! Please, for heaven's sake, let us take the time to mourn before we begin to think of business matters" This was Raoul, obviously upset.

"You are right, of course." The Earl sighed deeply, and I could hear that he was moving away from the door. "This has all been so sudden. I forget myself in my grief. Please forgive me, my son. We will discuss these things at a more appropriate time."

I backed away from the door, my mind racing. It had never occurred to me to wonder what Raoul's role would be should anything happen to his older brother. My stomach tightened painfully as I closed my eyes and forced my breathing to return to normal before I grasped the door knob again. Raoul and his father looked up when I entered. Swallowing hard, I strode toward the Earl and, dropping a curtsy before him, I said, " My Lord, please accept my sincerest condolences. I am truly sorry for your loss. I regret that I will never have the opportunity to know him as Raoul speaks so very highly of him."

The Earl stood silent for a moment, then he reached down and took my small hand into his large one. I could see that he struggled to maintain his composure. "Miss Daae, thank you for your kind words. Charles will be sorely missed. I am certain you would have liked him immensely, although he was not very much like Raoul. In fact, ever since they were boys they had the devil of a time getting along. They fought furiously from the time Raoul was able to walk, yet they remained the best of friends despite their vast differences."

His eyes took on an almost glazed look as he remembered his sons as boys. I could almost picture it myself, laughing Raoul mercilessly vexing his older brother who, by all accounts, was very studious and serious until the older Charles had finally had enough.

The Earl took my hand and placed it in the crook of his arm and smiled down at me, his eyes still shining with tears. "Come, Miss Daae. Walk with me in the garden and I shall tell you all about it. The sunshine will do me good and perhaps talking about it will somehow help me to deal with it." Surprised, I glanced at Raoul, who only lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. Feeling a little intimidated by the Earl, I was unable to refuse his request.

The Earl and I walked and talked for a long time that afternoon and I gained a new insight into his gruff exterior. I confess that I did not much like the Earl and he had not done much to soften my feelings toward him during my stay with the family. During our walk, however, I saw him as the proud father that he was and my heart ached for him in his terrible loss. His grief was almost a palpable thing hanging over him and the dislike I had been harboring for him began to recede. He spoke of Charles in almost reverent tones as he described Charles' and Raoul's adventures in mischief when they were children. I found myself laughing at descriptions of their antics, then moved to tears by the poignancy of his words.

I do not know how long we had walked, but I admit that I was reluctant to have it end when Raoul came to tell us that the carriage bearing Charles' body had arrived. The Earl and Raoul both took their leave to attend to the arrangements and I found myself standing alone in the garden. With a sigh I sat down on a small bench near the center of the garden. I reflected that my whole world had changed in the space of one day. Once again, I was alone in the world. How long did I have before Raoul's father again brought up the subject of Raoul's heirdom? And once that subject had been broached, how long before Raoul realized that, as his father's heir, he was no longer free to marry whomever he chose? I knew that Raoul could insist on marrying me despite his duty to his family, but could I live with the knowledge that I had been the one to cause such a terrible rift in his family? Should I decide that I could not be the cause of such a rift, what then? I had no where to go, no family to run to, no home of my own. The opera was gone and surely now, Raoul would have lost interest in financing the rebuilding. I suddenly realized that I could lose everything. I had lost so much already, how much more could I withstand? I raised my tear filled gaze to the heavens and implored God for mercy. I had lost my father and gained an Angel of music, only to learn my angel was only a man. A man with the most beautiful and angelic voice, but such a horrific face I could hardly bear to look upon it. I had thought that he loved me. Somehow in the back of my mind, I suppose I had childishly believed that even if something happened to Raoul I would always be able to rely on Erik's love for me. I began to realize how deeply childish and selfish I had truly been. Only now it was too late. Erik had come to the realization that he did not love me after all, had, in fact, only been in love with an illusion he had built from his own desire for love and acceptance. I knew that he was well and truly gone from my life now. Now Raoul was duty bound to seek a wife of his own station. I realized that I simply could not allow him to marry me when his family depended upon him to make a good alliance with a noble family.

Sighing again, I stood and turned toward the house. Walking up the pathway, I resolved that I would wait until after the funeral and things had settled down a bit before I spoke with Raoul about my decision. Amazingly, I felt a measure of peace when I had come to that decision within myself. Here was I with no home, no career and now with all hope for a comfortable future gone and I felt peaceful. Shaking my head in wonder, I entered the house and went to my room to rest before dinner. Yes, it felt like the right decision, but I could not help but wonder what could happen next.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Four weeks passed very quickly after Charles' funeral. During those weeks Raoul and I spent very little time together. I knew that soon I would have to tell him that I could not marry him, but I admit that I dreaded having to do so. The few times that we found ourselves alone, I could not help but see how grief for his brother had taken its toll on him. He seemed so vulnerable, somehow. I was loathe to hurt him further, but I realized more and more that it was the right thing to do.

Raoul and his father seemed to find strength in each other and grew closer. Theirs had been a strained relationship in the past and Raoul's often irresponsible behavior hadn't helped any. Since Charles' death, however, they had spent more and more time together, often closed up in the Earl's private study till the wee hours of the night. This, more than anything else, sealed my determination to end our engagement.

Since my evening spent at Madame Giry's, I had taken to writing in a small leatherbound journal each evening before I retired. Writing down all my thoughts and feelings had forced me, for the first time, to truly evaluate my feelings for Raoul and for Erik. I reflected on all the events that had taken place since Raoul had first come back into my life and took a long hard look at the choices I had made from that point on. I had no choice but to see that I had not only acted childishly, but selfishly. I had chosen the path of least resistance, convincing myself that I was making the right choice out of love for Raoul. I was astounded to realize that my heart had made its choice when I kissed Erik that second time. At first I believed I was simply doing what must be done to free Raoul, but when I had kissed Erik again, my heart had sang and my soul had melded with his. But, fear once again took hold and I fled. I abandoned him, just as his mother must have done, if not physically, then at least emotionally. It must have seemed to him that I, like everyone else in his life, had been unable to see past his deformities. I realized that I loved Erik and always would. There would never be anyone else. And now it was too late.

My feelings for Raoul were not quite as complicated. I loved him, yes, but I now recognized it as an immature love. Perhaps simply the superficial infatuation of a young girl for a handsome young Vicomte. My love for Raoul was _safe_. Married to Raoul, I would have lived a comfortable life. We would have had a great friendship and I daresay there wouldn't have been much conflict in our marriage. Eventually, however, each of us would have drifted further away from the other, neither of us realizing that we had outgrown each other. I would always be haunted by thoughts of my angel of music and Raoul would never understand why there always seemed to be a part of me he could not reach.

Once I had put all of these thoughts and emotions into perspective, I found that I could say goodbye to the girl I had been at last. More than one night I cried until I thought my heart would simply burst and I would die. I cried for me, I cried for my father, longing for his arms, I cried for Raoul and I cried for Erik. I often wound up falling into an exhausted sleep, dreaming that I could hear Erik's voice singing softly to me, soothing me. By the time four weeks had passed, however, I felt as if all my tears had been cried and my grief expended. I was ready to talk to Raoul now.

Now I found myself pacing in the library, waiting for Raoul. I had sent him a note asking him to meet me here. My heart was racing and I had to force my hands to stop shaking as I waited. I knew this must be done, but the thought of hurting him nearly changed my mind several times. I was on the verge of slipping out and back up to my room when I heard the click of his booted heels on the wooden floor coming toward the library. Bracing myself, I turned to face him as he entered.

"Ah, my little Lotte," Raoul often addressed me by the childhood nickname he had given me long ago. He smiled warmly at me as he strode across the library to take my hands in his. " I have missed you, my love." Leaning down, he kissed me lightly and tears stung my eyes.

"We have not had much time to talk lately, have we?" I said, looking up at him with a sad smile. Taking a deep breath, I plunged ahead, not giving him an opportunity to answer. "Raoul, there is something I must tell you. The day you brought me back from Madame Giry's, I came down to the library to offer my condolences to your parents. When I reached the door, I heard your father talking to you. Before I could open the door, I heard him speak my name and I stopped. Please forgive me for eavesdropping, but I heard what he said to you about being his heir now that Charles was gone."

"Oh, Christine, why didn't you tell me?. I am sorry. You must have been so worried these past weeks, afraid my father would insist that we not get married! If I had only known, I could have set your mind at ease, my dear. This changes nothing. You and I will still be married, as planned. My father will just have to accept that."

"There is more, Raoul. Since that evening, I have spent a great deal of time thinking about what your father said. I realize now that he is right. You have a duty to your family now. Your parents had come to accept our marriage because they felt they had no choice and also because Charles was the heir and it was his marriage that was the more imporant. Now that Charles is gone and you will inherit your fathers title and lands, it is only natural that you will be expected to be responsible and make an advantageous alliance."

"I don't understand. Of course society has certain expectations, but I am not interested in what they expect. I love my parents, too, but I am determined to marry you, Christine. I love you. My parents will learn to accept that eventually. It will be harder, of course, since Charles' passing, but they will accept it or they will not be a part of our lives."

"That is the very reason that we must not marry, Raoul. I will not come between you and your parents. They love you and I know that you love them. If you defy their wishes in this, you may destroy any hope you have of a future relationship with them. I could not live with myself if I caused that to happen. You don't see it now, but you would eventually come to resent me for being the cause of it. You must look ahead and realize what it will mean to us in the future. What about children that we may have? If you cut your parents out of our lives, or if they cut you out, our children will never be able to have a relationship with their grandparents. Don't you see, Raoul? Our marriage can only bring about grief for everyone involved." I looked at him, imploring him to understand.

"I cannot believe I am hearing this from you. I am willing to give up everything for you! There is nothing I wouldn't do to keep you by my side, Christine. And now you are telling me that we shouldn't be married? I realize that you are trying to spare me grief, but losing you would cause me more grief than you can possibly know." Raoul reached for me and pulled me into his arms before I could protest. "You speak of resentment, but I could never resent you. I have loved you from the first moment I saw you. Let us not speak of this any longer. We shall be married as planned. Our love will be enough."

Closing my eyes, I gathered my strength. I hadn't realized how hard this would be, but I knew I must see it through. Placing my hand on his chest, I gently pushed him back until I could look into his eyes again.

"I am sorry, Raoul. I cannot marry you. I _will_ not marry you." I reached for my left hand and pulled off the engagement ring he had placed upon my third finger soon after we had arrived at his parents home. He made no move to take it from me when I held it out to him, so I placed it upon the desk. "Some day you will realize that it is because I love you that I am doing this. Your heart will mend eventually and you will go on with your life. It doesn't seem so now, but it will be so. I am truly sorry..." Tears choked my voice and I turned and fled.

Reaching my room, I slammed the door shut and rested my head upon the cool wood panels, letting the hot tears fall. I believed I had cried all my tears before today, but apparently not, I thought bitterly. Washing my face, I quickly changed out of the dress I had been wearing. I put on the wedding gown that I had been wearing when I first came here. It was the only thing in the wardrobe that belonged to me and I didn't feel right keeping any of the clothes the De Chagnys had provided for me. I sat down at the little desk and scribbled out a note, thanking the Earl and Countess for their generosity. I explained that I would be staying with friends from now on and that Raoul could explain more fully what had happened.

Ringing the little bell in the room, I summoned Monique and asked her to please deliver the note to the Earl and Countess. I took one more look at the beautiful room I had been staying in, then turned and hurried down the stairs and through the front door. I had sent one of the household servants for a cab before talking to Raoul, knowing I would be leaving, and now it waited for me out front. I climbed in and sat down. As the horses pulled us down the drive, I turned for one last look and saw Raoul come out the front door, looking around before his gaze fixed on the carriage as it drove away. I could see his shoulders slump and I longed to go back and comfort him, but I could not. I quickly turned to face forward before the tears started again.

Not knowing where else to go, I instructed the driver to take me to Madame Giry's home. When the cab came to a halt in front of the little cottage, I handed the driver my last coin. Taking his hand, I stepped out onto the little sidewalk. I thanked him and turned to face my unknown future.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The following morning I awakened just as the sun was rising. I had stayed in the same small room that I had occupied before at Madame Giry's. Stretching, I sat up and gazed out the window at the first beams of sunlight caressing the dew covered leaves and grass. It looked as if it were going to be a beautiful day. Smiling, I slipped on Meg's dressing gown and made my way to the kitchen. Madame Giry was already up and seated at the small table, sipping a cup of hot tea.

"Good morning," I said as she looked up at me and smiled.

"Ah, good morning, my dear," She gestured for me to take the seat across from her, then quickly poured me a cup of tea.

"Thank you," I said, reaching for the cup. We sat in companionable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. I felt at home and relaxed for the first time in months. I knew that eventually, I was going to have to address the fact that I was, essentially, homeless and penniless, but for now, I wanted only to be here, in this moment, savoring the quiet of a lovely early summer morning.

When I had finished my tea, I set my cup down and turned to Madame Giry. "I want to thank you for letting me stay here last night," I said.

"Christine, you are family. You have simply come home. There is no need to thank me, my dear." Her glance was slightly reproachful.

Smiling, I reached over and took her hand in mine. "All the same, I am grateful to you for all you have done for me. I never knew my mother, but you have been a mother to me, Madame. I shall always be grateful to you, whether you like it or not."

"Well, I see that you are determined to have your own way in this." She squeezed my hand and I saw the amusement in her eyes.

" I am indeed." I said. "Had I but known it was this easy to get my own way with you I should have tried it long ago!"

Laughing, she poured us both another cup of tea. I sipped my tea contentedly for a few more minutes before Madame Giry broke the silence.

"Would you like to talk about why you showed up at an ungodly hour in a wedding dress and crying as if your heart would break last evening?" Her tone was teasing, but I could hear the concern in her words.

Sighing, I set the little cup on the table. I gathered my thoughts for a moment, idly tracing the rim of the cup with my finger. "I have broken my engagement with Raoul," I finally said.

Madame Giry's brows came together in an expression of concerned confusion. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" she asked, kindly.

"I realized that I cannot marry him. Now that his older brother has passed away, he is now his father's heir and his duty to his family is to make a good alliance with another titled family. But it is not only that, Madame. I love Raoul, truly I do, but I cannot give him all of my heart when I do not fully know my heart myself. You see, the night I stayed here, Erik came to me after he spoke with you. I tried to pretend to sleep, but I couldn't. I..." Here, I hesitated, not sure how Madame Giry would respond to how boldly and wanton I had acted. Not meeting her gaze, I continued. "I kissed him. I know it was terribly wicked of me! I regretted it instantly when I thought of Raoul, but I am afraid Erik was very angry with me."

I looked up, reluctantly, and was relieved to see that she did not seem utterly shocked by my confession. My relief was short-lived however, as her expression turned stern. "You are right, Christine, it was very wicked of you to kiss him. Oh, not because of the kiss itself, but because it was a cruel thing to do." She sighed deeply, her expression troubled. "You do not realize what kind of life Monsieur Erik has endured, Christine. We take things like a simple kiss or a hug or even a light touch from another person for granted. Monsieur Erik has never known those things. This is why he kidnapped you and tried to force you to stay with him. He loves you, but does not know how to make you love him. In letting you go, he was finally able to understand what it means to love someone more than oneself. He, no doubt, thought that you would go on and marry the Vicomte and live a happy life and perhaps he had achieved a measure of peace, no matter how painful a peace it may have been. Then, he came here and saw you again and you kissed him. How do you suppose he feels?"

I was unable to do anything other than acknowledge the truth of the matter. "I did not consider how he feels." My voice was barely above a whisper now. I had thought myself so selfless and brave, breaking off my engagement with Raoul so that he could marry someone of his own station, but, in reality I was only thinking of myself once again. I felt guilty because I was still thinking of Erik, but I was only considering my own feelings. I knew it wasn't fair to Erik to kiss him or give him encouragement when I did not know what I truly felt for him, but I had not been willing to come to terms with that fact until Madame Giry had forced me to see it.

Madame Giry reached across the table and took my hand in hers. "I know that you do not mean to hurt him. But you see now that it is wrong to give him reason to believe that you care for him when you do not even know yourself where your heart truly belongs." She gave my hand a final pat, then straightened. "Come now, let's have some breakfast. Meg will be up any minute and will want to talk with you, I'm sure."

Madame Giry had risen and was making another pot of tea when there was a knock at the door. It was apparent that Madame was not expecting anyone this morning, for she frowned slightly before moving to answer. I followed along behind her, curious. When the door opened, my heart plummeted when I saw the De Chagny liveried servant holding out a calling card.

"The Vicomte De Chagny, Madame. My lord wishes to see Mademoiselle Daae, if she is available." The servant, whose name I did not know, announced, handing the card to Madame Giry. She turned and looked at me questioningly.

Taking the card, I stepped in front of Madame Giry and handed it back to the servant. "Please tell Vicomte De Chagny that I do not wish to see him."

"Tell him yourself." I looked past the servant to see Raoul strolling determinedly up the short walkway.

"Raoul," I said, weakly.

"Whether you wish it or not, you and I will speak. If it is not today, then it will be tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the next day. You will find that I can be very patient, Christine. This is far from over and the sooner you see me, the sooner we can all put this behind us for good or ill."

"Raoul, I am not even dressed! This is quite improper," I protested, stepping back behind Madame Giry.

"I can wait." Raoul stepped up onto the small porch and leaned against the railing. I sighed deeply, knowing I would not be able to send him away until I had spoken with him.

Dreading the coming conversation, I turned and started for the back bedroom again. I had just gotten out the wedding dress and was preparing to put it on again when Madame Giry entered carrying a package. She held it out to me and I took it, frowning. "This is from Raoul?" I asked.

"Yes, it is," she replied, then held up her hand when I opened my mouth to protest. "My dear, you have nothing and you cannot continue to wear that silly wedding dress. Meg's dresses will not fit you without taking them in and we haven't the time for that right now, do we? Now, child, go on, open the package and put on the dress. The Vicomte is waiting."

I looked at her, my expression clearly showing my displeasure. "Well, I suppose I don't have much choice, do I?" I shot her one last accusatory glance before reluctantly untying the package. Inside was a lovely blue silk gown. I shook it out and Madame Giry helped me to dress. I took a moment to gather my thoughts before I headed out to the foyer where Raoul now waited.

"I am glad you decided to accept the dress," Raoul said, a slight smile on his lips. "You look beautiful, Christine."

"Raoul, please don't." I said. "I will talk to you, but my mind will not be changed."

"Well, that remains to be seen." Raoul offered me his arm and led me out the door and down the little walk. "It's a pleasant day, is it not? Let us walk for a bit, shall we?"

I agreed and we walked in silence for several minutes, each of us thinking our own thoughts. I had known that Raoul wouldn't be so easily set aside, but I hadn't expected him to come after me so soon. I had thought that I would have more time to work out all my thoughts and feelings before I faced him again.

"Christine, look at me, my love." Raoul stopped under a large, old oak tree and turned me to face him. "You ran out so quickly last night. There is so much more to be said. If you tell me that you do not love me, then I shall go and leave you in peace, but I don't believe you can do that, can you?"

I dropped my gaze. "Raoul, please understand. I am doing what is best for us both. You cannot see that now, I know, but someday, you will see that it was the right thing."

"Yes, yes, I know. It is my duty to my family and you are so nobly sacrificing yourself so as not to cause me misery when I am an old man. Yes, the logic of it is quite impressive, I agree. In fact, the wisdom of it is so compelling that I would be willing to accept it and let it go, were it not for one thing; I love you, Christine. I am convinced that you still love me. As long as we love each other, there is nothing that we cannot overcome! Come back with me, little Lotte and let us put this behind us. Let me handle my father. He will come to accept our marriage in time."

I looked up into his earnest blue eyes and my resolve nearly left me. How easy it would be to simply agree with him and go back, I thought. I smiled, sadly. "I cannot go back with you Raoul."

"Cannot or will not? I rather think it to be the latter but, for the life of me I cannot imagine why!" Raoul turned from me suddenly and walked a short distance away before turning back to me, his face now angry and confused. "I don't understand this, Christine. We have been through so much to be together and now, suddenly, our love is not enough? It seemed enough when you were eager to be away from the Phantom. In fact, now I think of it, you're acting much the same way you did when..." His voice trailed off and I saw the color drain from his face. "That's it, isn't it? He is still after you, isn't he? What is he holding over you, Christine? This time I'll kill him, I swear!"

"He is holding nothing over me! Erik let me go of his own free will and has made no attempt to force or coerce me back to him. This is not about Erik, this is about us."

"No, Christine, it's not about us. It's about _you_. I love you and, for me, that's enough. I can handle my father and my family. I'm not concerned about the gossip, nor am I concerned about losing my inheritance. I would give it all up for you. Everything. In fact, I have already made provisions for us should my father decide to be stubborn and disinherit me. I have bought a house for us. It's modest, but it would be ours. I had thought that I would present it to you as a wedding gift." Raoul lowered his head momentarily, then looked back up at me, his eyes filled with hurt. "I love you. Can that not be enough for you, Christine? My little Lotte.."

My tears spilled over and ran down my cheeks as I stood there before him. I wanted nothing more than to run to him and throw my arms around him and take it all back. I could not bear to see the hurt, the confusion in his eyes. With a great effort, I met his eyes. "I am sorry, Raoul. I truly never wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry." Unable to say more, I simply stood with my arms at my side.

Wordlessly, Raoul offered me his arm to walk me back to Madame Giry's. I stepped back. "I think that I will stay and walk a while." I said, turning my tear streaked face away from him.

I heard rustling and turned to see Raoul fishing a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket. Before I could protest, he was gently wiping the tears from my cheeks, then he leaned down and kissed me softly. When he pulled back, I could see that his own tears now mingled with mine. He pressed the handkerchief into my hand, then turned and walked back the way we had come.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The next few weeks passed in a kind of blur. I had never before felt so lost and alone. Even after my father died, I had the opera and Madame Giry. Even though I knew that Madame and Meg were happy to have me there, I felt more and more that I was a burden to them. I knew that they loved me and never felt that I was imposing, but I felt that I should find a position somewhere as soon as possible.

I determined that I would put all thoughts of Raoul and Erik out of my mind for the time being and simply concentrate on finding a suitable position and maybe, a home for myself. I scoured the paper every day and walked the streets applying for every position that seemed like something I may be able to do. I was, unfortunately, very limited in what I could apply for due to my lack of skills. I interviewed with several of the wealthy families for governess or companion positions, but as soon as they realized I was Christine Daae, former opera singer, I found myself politely shown to the door. Apparently actresses and singers were not considered appropriate for the molding of young, impressionable minds.

It had been about three weeks since Raoul had visited me at Madame Giry's and I had just come back from another disappointing job search and was just about to make a pot of tea and feel sorry for myself when there came a knock at the door. Madame and Meg were out, so I went to answer. I opened the door to find a young man standing before me, holding an envelope with the De Chagny seal. After scraping together a suitable tip for the young man, I thanked him and took the envelope into the drawing room. Sinking down into the large comfortable chair by the fireplace, I stared at the envelope. I was afraid of what might be inside, but I had to know. Sighing, I broke the seal and opened the envelope. Inside was a letter, written in Raoul's neat flowing script.

_Little Lotte,_

_ I hope this letter finds you well. I have thought much about you since our last meeting and my purpose in writing is twofold. First, I must beg your forgiveness for my boorish behavior. The thought of losing you had so upset me that I lost my head and spoke rashly things that I now regret. I hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me, my darling. I have had a great deal of time to think about all you said and I have come to the realization that I was behaving no better than your Phantom by attempting to force you to see that we belong together. You see, Christine, we do belong together, but I simply have to trust that, in time, you will come to that same conclusion. For now, I am prepared to give you the time and the space you need. I can wait for you, my love and I will wait for you. Forever, if need be. _

_ This brings me to my second purpose for writing to you. When last we spoke, I told you that I had purchased a house for us in the event that my father was unwilling to accept our marriage. I had intended to present it to you as a wedding gift, but I think that there is a better purpose for it now. I am aware of your circumstances and know that you are trying to find a position here in Paris. I also know that you would die of starvation before ever asking for help. I find that I have a personal interest in keeping you alive, my dear, and so I have spoken to my solicitor and had him draw up the proper paperwork. I want you to have the house. I have put the title in your name, free and clear. I no longer have any claim on it whatsoever, so you needn't feel beholden to me in any way. I am asking nothing of you in return. I beg you not to let your pride keep you from accepting this. I do this also in honor of your father, whom I loved. No matter what happens between us, little Lotte, I owe it to him to make sure you are taken care of. I believe that he would want you to accept it as well. _

_ I have arranged for a carriage to pick you and Madame Giry and Meg up tomorrow morning and take you to see the house. It is in a small village northwest of Paris. It will be at least a three day trip, so I have arranged for you to stay at an inn along the way as well as a small inn in the village. I think that you will fall instantly in love with it when you see it. At least look at it before you reply to this letter. _

_ I remain your faithful servant,_

_ Raoul De Chagny_

I stared at the letter for a long time, my thoughts spinning. I could not accept it, of course. I would write to him immediately and give him a piece of my mind for being so presumptuous! I stood, intending to go to the small writing desk in the corner of the room, but stopped halfway there. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to at least look at the house. But, no, that would be wrong. What if I did fall in love with it as Raoul believed I would? It would just make it that much harder to pen my refusal. No, I would not go. I sat down at the desk and pulled a sheet of paper from the small stack Madame Giry kept in the drawer. Staring at the blank page in front of me, I tried to muster up the indignation that I should feel, but it was impossible. Frustrated, I stood and began to pace.

I was still pacing when Madame Giry and Meg came back from the Market several minutes later. I snatched up the letter from Raoul and, wordlessly, handed it to Madame to read. I took her packages and set them down in the kitchen while she read the letter. When she had finished, she handed the letter to Meg to read.

"What will you do?" Madame asked, at last.

"The only thing I can do! I will write him and tell him that I cannot accept so extravagant a gift."

"That would seem the proper thing to do, but, my dear, I think you should consider very carefully before refusing. You have no means of your own and, by your own admission, there is little hope of you attaining a suitable position here. Perhaps we should all go tomorrow and at least have a look at it."

"But, Madame! It would be improper! Everyone would believe I have become his mistress!"

"Christine, no one knows you there. He said it is a small village and it is not here in Paris, so no one would know who actually bought the house, surely. Besides, he says it is already done. The papers have been drawn and the title is yours. It would seem that the house is yours no matter what you may wish." Meg had finished reading and now regarded me with grim amusement. "You may tell the Vicomte that I will be happy to accept the house if you are not interested."

I picked up a pillow and threw it at her. "Be serious, Meg."

Meg stuck her tongue out at me, then went into the kitchen to put away the morning's purchases. I turned to Madame Giry and sighed. "I suppose looking won't hurt."

"I understand why you think you should refuse this gift, my dear, but perhaps this is just what you need. It will give you a chance to get out of Paris and away from both the Vicomte and Monsieur E rik. Perhaps it will give you clarity of thought. It can't hurt to look into it at any rate. We will go and enjoy our little holiday, no?" Madame Giry smiled gently and led me into the kitchen. We passed the rest of the day cleaning and preparing to be away for several days.

That night, I had a very restless sleep. I confess, the thought of having my own home and living on my own terms greatly appealed to me. I was afraid, however, that despite Raoul's assurance that the house came without any demands or expectations from him, that he would indeed expect certain things from me. No, I did not think that Raoul would ever attempt to make me his mistress. I knew he would never even suggest such a thing to me. What concerned me was the thought that I was encouraging his affections by accepting the house. I had thought long and hard about Madame Giry's words concerning Erik and me having encouraged him by kissing him. Was this the same thing, then? By accepting the house, would I be sending the message to Raoul that we may have a future together? And was I truly certain that we didn't have a future together? I didn't know. And what of Erik? What would he think should he learn that I had accepted a house from Raoul? Would he believe I had decided to become Raoul's mistress as everyone else would assume should they find out? Surely he knew me better than that! The thought that Erik may believe that I had become such a loose woman distressed me beyond words.

I finally gave up trying to sleep altogether. Quietly, I slipped out of the narrow bed and put on a cloak. I tiptoed down the short hallway and through the kitchen. I opened the back door slowly so as not to wake Madame Giry with it's creaking. When I had closed the door behind me, I relaxed. I thought some fresh air would be good for me. I walked in the small garden behind Madame's cottage for a while, bathed in moonlight. The night was very warm and I soon shed the cloak. I didn't worry about anyone coming upon me as I was in Madame's enclosed back garden.

"Mademoiselle, you should not be out at such an hour and certainly not dressed in this manner." The voice came out of the darkness, startling me. I knew it in an instant and would have been glad to hear it, had it not held such a disapproving ring to it. Quickly I snatched up my cloak and flung it about my shoulders.

"Erik! You scared me! What are you doing skulking about Madame Giry's gardens in the middle of the night, anyway?" I snapped, angry that he had come upon me so easily and startled me.

"That, ma cherie, is none of your concern. I did not realize the garden was occupied. Next time I shall have to send a note round, letting you know when I will be requiring the garden in the future."

Was that sarcasm or amusement I heard in his voice? With him, it was impossible to tell. "I'm sure that won't be necessary." I said, awkwardly, not sure how to respond.

"I do apologize for startling you." Erik's shadow moved and I could see in the moonlight that he was bowing to me, then he turned to go.

"Erik, wait!" I called, not realizing I was even going to speak before it was out of my mouth. "Will you stay here and talk with me for a bit?"

"I do not think that would be wise, Mademoiselle. Young maidens should not entertain monsters in the dark hours of the night."

"You are not a monster, Erik. Please stay for a while and talk with me as you used to when I could not sleep."

"As you wish, Mademoiselle." He said, reluctantly.

"Please, stop calling me that. I am Christine."

"Yes." He said shortly.

I sighed, resigned to the fact that he was not going to be cooperative. "I am glad we happened to meet tonight, Erik. I have wondered if you were well after..." I blushed and cleared my throat before continuing. "After we last spoke. You were very angry when you left. I seem to make you angry often." My voice had lowered to a whisper on that last sentence.

"You are yet a child, Christine. I am not angry with you now."

"You're wrong, Erik. I am no longer a child. I am not the same person that fled the opera house that night."

He stood silent and still, regarding me intently, bitter amusement evident in his eyes. I wanted to stamp my foot in frustration, but knew that would only prove to him what he obviously believed: that I was still a child playing at being grownup. Instead, I turned and sat down on the little bench, then patted the seat next to me, indicating that I wished him to sit down with me. He regarded me for a minute more, then slowly moved to sit beside me on the bench. I knew I would have to be very careful. I kept replaying Madame Giry's words in my mind to remind me that I must not allow my emotions to control my actions. I could feel how uncomfortable he was sitting beside me.

"Do you come to check on Madame Giry every night?" I asked, not knowing what else to say.

"No."

Determined to hold my anger at his curt answers, I plowed ahead. "You are very kind to check on her."

To my surprise, he laughed. It was not a pleasant laugh. "Ah, you still live in your own little world where everyone is kind and gentle and there are no real monsters. But there are monsters, Christine. Refusing to see them will not make them any less real. I am not a kind man, Mademoiselle. You should not make the mistake of thinking me capable of kindness, for you will only be disappointed."

"You are capable of kindness. I have seen it. When you allowed me to leave the opera with Raoul, you showed mercy. Do not try to tell me otherwise."

"Far be it from me to awaken you from your dreamworld. You will believe what you will, but it was not kindness that prompted me to release you. It was quite selfish, in fact. I realized that I didn't want a child to look after. I am getting old and set in my ways and it would inconvenience me greatly to have to worry with another persons needs and wants."

Stung, I looked away from him, trying hard not to cry. "You words are cruel."

"Yes." He said again, shortly.

"I don't believe you," I whispered, tears stinging my eyelids. "You let me go because you loved me, because you wanted me to be happy. Well, I am not happy, Erik. Does that surprise you? Perhaps not. Mayhap you are as unkind as you claim and you let me go knowing that I would be unable to stop thinking of you! Perhaps you knew even then that I would break my engagement to Raoul. You knew that I would not be able to go through with it when you are continually in my mind! What have you done to me? Is this your revenge, then? If it is, then you should be very well pleased for you have accomplished all that you set out to do!" My tears were flowing freely now and I stood, shaking with anger and humiliated that I should lose control of myself this way. I took a steadying breath and turned back to him. He, too, had risen and now stood a short distance from me, his back to me, his head down.

"I am sorry," I began, one hand reaching out to him.

"You begin to understand the nature of the beast, Mademoiselle." His voice was ragged, as if the words were dragged out of him against his will. He did not turn around.

"Erik, forgive me, please. I should not have spoken so." I took a step toward him, my hand still outstretched, wanting to touch him, wanting him to come to me.

"There is nothing to forgive, Mademoiselle," he said, stiffly, his hand reaching out and gripping the tree that he stood before.

"Erik, please, don't turn away from me! I cannot bear your anger! I love..."

"Do not dare!" He nearly roared, turning around suddenly, fiercely. He stalked toward me, like an animal toward its prey. "If you dare to speak those words to me, I think I shall kill you here and now. Do you think me a fool? You tempt me with what I cannot have, you wicked child! You think you have tasted my wrath, but you have no idea what you are playing at! I will not be toyed with by a mere child!" Unable to move, I could only stare in terror as he drew closer to me. I opened my mouth to speak, but his hands closed around my throat at that moment, shutting off my air. Gasping for air, I clawed at his hands, more terrified than I had ever been in my life.

As quickly as he had grasped me, he released me. The strength went out of my legs and I fell to the ground. My hands went to my throat as I gasped and coughed. Erik backed away from me, slowly, his eyes wide with shock at what he'd done. "Erik..." I croaked between coughs.

"Christine," he whispered, his voice thick with tears. "What have I done?"

He came to me quickly and helped me onto the bench. When I could breathe freely again, he helped me up and steered me toward the house. When we entered the kitchen, I turned to him and opened my mouth to speak, but he silenced me with a quick motion of his hand.

"Do not try to speak. I will prepare an herbal tea that will soothe your throat." He avoided my eyes and went about the kitchen, gathering the required herbs.

"Erik," I whispered, and placed my hand on his arm. He froze. "Forgive me."

"You must not speak, Christine." He said, still avoiding my eyes.

"I will speak and you will hear me." I said. "I have wronged you, my Angel. I betrayed you and left you. I have hurt you immeasurably and I am truly sorry. I realize now that I should have been honest with you and with myself. I was afraid. I allowed fear to dictate my actions when I should have come to you. I am still afraid. I am afraid of what I feel when I am with you. I am afraid of losing you forever. I have always loved you. You have been my mentor, my teacher, my Angel of Music."

I stopped, allowing him to think about my words, then I continued. "I am leaving Paris tomorrow. Raoul purchased a house that he was going to present to me as a wedding gift, but since I have broken our engagement, he no longer has any need of it and so he had his solicitor draw up the title in my name because I had nowhere else to go. Tomorrow I am going there and I intend to stay there and try to learn who I am. I have never taken the time to get to know myself, so it is no wonder that I was unable to choose between you and Raoul. I hope that you will be able to forgive me for the hurt I have caused you. Perhaps someday you can even come to visit me and we can sing our duets like we used to."

I walked around in front of him,then and placed my hands on either side of his masked face. I could feel that the mask was drenched with the tears that were running down his cheeks. Once again, I pulled the mask from his face and beheld his horrible features. He tried to pull away, but I wouldn't let him. I leaned forward and kissed him again, this time slowly and deliberately. When I drew back, both our faces were wet with tears and I could feel him shaking in my hands. "I am sorry" I whispered again. This time he did pull away. He picked up his mask and refastened it, then turned and walked silently out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The following morning, Madame Giry, Meg and I all climbed into the De Chagny carriage and set out for the small village Raoul had told us of in his letter. I had half expected to see Raoul inside the carriage, but he was true to his word to give me time. The journey was long; we traveled until dusk, only stopping when absolutely necessary. I spent most of the journey staring out the window at the countryside. Meg and Madame tried to engage me in conversation, but I was unable to concentrate for any length of time and would lapse into long silences. Eventually, they gave up trying and I was left to myself.

As the bustling city gave way to green pastures and wooded hills, I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew that whatever decision I came to regarding the house Raoul offered me, this time away would be good for me. Madame Giry had been right about that.

When it finally became so dark I thought we would have to actually force the driver to stop, I was just about to suggest to Madame Giry that we speak with him when we pulled into the courtyard of a modest inn situated beside the road. We had a light supper and retired to our separate rooms for the evening, each of us exhausted after our long journey. I had thought I would find sleeping difficult, but no sooner than I had doused the lamp and climbed into the small bed than I was sound asleep.

I awakened the following morning before dawn and, as I lay there, my mind turned again to Erik and our last encounter. Over and over I had replayed it in my mind, each time searching for what I should have said or done differently. I had been so convinced that Erik would never deliberately harm me, and there he had been, hands wrapped around my throat and I had panicked, clawing at his hands and arms frantically. I had, at first, been puzzled that telling him that I loved him should provoke such a violent reaction from him. The more I turned it over in my head, however, the more I had to realize that those words meant more to him than I could understand. For me to utter them in what was, to him, an almost casual manner, was more than he could bear. He would have misinterpreted it as an attempt on my part to placate him or perhaps he believed that I said it out of a sense of pity or duty. However he interpreted it, it was certainly not what he had expected, or needed, to hear at that time.

Sighing, I turned over and looked out the window at the first rays of the sun rising on the horizon. The countryside was so beautiful here that I longed to just stay here and contemplate nothing more complicated than the rising of the morning sun. Unfortunately, it was not to be. I was startled to complete wakefulness by a knocking on my door.

Throwing a dressing gown about my shoulders, I stumbled across the still dark room and opened the door to find Meg standing in the hallway. Motioning her in, I closed the door and lit a lamp, then proceeded to wash up and get dressed. Meg chatted to me about this and that while I attended to my morning ablutions. When we were small, she had always been chatty and energetic at the most ungodly hours. I was comforted to see that she hadn't changed at all. Smiling, I linked my arm with hers and headed down to have a quick breakfast before we were on our way again.

That day of traveling was much like the last, only we reached the village that was our destination well before sunset. We settled into the inn, got washed up and had an early supper before we set out to see the town and make our way to Raoul's house. I was having a hard time thinking of the house as "mine", despite the fact that Raoul claimed it to be so. We strolled leisurely through the dirt streets, taking in the small shops and the villagers that bustled about. It was so completely different from Paris, that I was a little surprised to learn that this was just an average day for the townspeople. I had thought that surely there must be some special event going on outside town that had claimed the majority of the town's residents. I couldn't image what type of event it might be, but that seemed the only reasonable explanation for the lack of people milling about the little main street. When I asked Madame Giry what event she thought may be taking place, she had appeared, at first, puzzled, then amused as she explained that there was no event. Life was simply slower in small villages and townships such as this one, she explained to me.

It was a lovely village and the people seemed friendly enough, some of them stopping to chat with us, obviously curious as to our reasons for being here. We chatted amiably with most of them, exchanging pleasantries as we slowly made our way to the lovely stone cottage that stood nearly on the outskirts of town.

When I finally laid eyes upon the house, I realized that Raoul had been correct in his assertion that I should fall in love with the house immediately. It was certainly a beautiful home, with lovely stone walls and surrounded by a matching low stone fence. The wrought iron gate swung, loosely in the gentle breeze and made a loud creak of protest when I pushed it open to enter the small yard. We walked up the short walkway, each of us trying to take in everything at once. The yard was overgrown and it was obvious the house had not been occupied for many years. I could see, however, that someone had, apparently, made some recent repairs. That would make sense; Raoul had believed that we were to be married in a few short months and I am sure he would have wanted to get the house ready before showing it to me. I felt a pang, picturing again his lovely blue eyes filled with hurt.

Pushing the thought away, I walked up the steps of the front stoop and opened the wooden door. Stepping inside, I found myself in a large room that must serve as a living area or parlor. To my right were stairs leading to the second floor and straight ahead there was a lovely archway leading to a dining area and, I assumed, the kitchen. I walked through the archway and turned right and entered the small kitchen. Yes, it was small, but bright with many large windows and a back door that led out onto a small patio with a lovely space that surely had once been a garden.

Meg had followed me through the dining area and into the kitchen and now she squealed in delight to see the little garden through the back door. She flung open the door and rushed out, beaming like a schoolchild who had just been given her fondest wish. I couldn't help but grin at her antics. I joined her on the little stone patio and looked around. I could see that the enclosure was but an extension of the low stone fence that surrounded the entire house. There was a narrow street or, perhaps an alleyway, running alongside the garden wall, but it was a good distance from the house itself and, from the look of it, was seldom used for anything other than foot traffic. I couldn't discern any recent cart tracks.

Heading back into the house, Meg and I climbed the staircase to have a look at the second floor. I discovered there were two rooms upstairs, which I took to be bedrooms. I explored each one thoroughly with Meg. We had completely decorated both rooms with our vivid imaginations when I heard Madame Giry calling for me. I stepped out of the largest of the bedrooms and turned to see Madame standing at the end of the short hallway. I hadn't noticed there was a very narrow doorway there. Madame had opened the door and discovered it opened upon a very steep set of stairs which had to lead to an attic. I was certain that there was not a third floor, so that was the only explanation. Brushing cobwebs out of the way, we climbed the stairs into the oppressive heat which only grew stronger the higher we ascended.

At the top of the narrow stairs, I discovered that I was correct. It was indeed an attic. There were several broken pieces of furniture here and a trunk shoved into a far corner. The ceiling was barely high enough for me to stand upright and, for Madame and Meg, it was even more uncomfortable as they were both taller than me. There was a small window on either end of the little attic, and I went to one and looked out. From one side there was a view of the garden and the little street outside and in the other, there was a view of the town and the church's spire rising above all the other rooftops. I would have liked to go through the trunk to see if there was anything of the previous owner left, but my head had soon begun to pound from the overwhelming heat and we made our way back down to the relative cool of the second floor.

We remained in the little cottage until it was nearly sunset, talking and dreaming of all the possibilities if I were to accept Raoul's gift. As we closed the door and started down the little walkway the sunlight had already started to fade. I noticed, then, that there was an older woman walking past the house and it looked as if she were struggling with several packages.

"Madame!" I called, rushing out the gate, intent upon helping her with her load.

She looked up at me when I called and I saw her face blanch visibly. Her packages dropped to the ground and she took a step back and crossed herself. She had become so pale suddenly, I feared she would faint and so I reached for her, to steady her and when I did, she shrieked as if the devil himself had reached for her and jerked her arm back and then she did faint. Fortunately, for her, I was close enough to grab her before she hit the ground. She was very thin, and so it was fairly easy to lower her to the ground softly and by that time, Meg and Madame Giry had arrived and helped me. Madame hurriedly took off her cloak, folded it and placed it under the woman's head as a pillow of sorts while Meg and I fanned her.

"What happened?" Madame turned to me, her eyes clearly showing her concern.

"I don't know," I replied, dumbfounded at the woman's reaction. "When she saw me, she acted as if she'd seen a ghost, then I went to steady her and that's when she screamed and fainted."

Madame's brows furrowed as she turned back to regard the fallen woman. She reached down and gently patted the woman's cheeks in an attempt to rouse her. Shortly, the odd woman seemed to come around and Meg and Madame Giry helped her into a sitting position. Remembering her strange reaction to me, I stepped back when she opened her eyes, not wanting to cause her any further distress.

"Madame, are you well?" I heard Madame Giry ask her.

"I think I am better now, thank you," the woman replied, her expression still looking stricken. She glanced up and her gaze fell on me, once again.

At her sharp intake of breath, I hurried to assure her that my intention was not to hurt her or distress her in any way. I looked at Madame Giry, imploring her to help me.

Madame Giry, sensing my discomfort, tried to distract the woman. "Madame, do you think you are well enough to stand? I fear you've dropped your packages here, I do hope nothing was broken. Please, allow Meg and me to help you over to the fence where you can sit and regain your senses while we gather your packages for you. It wouldn't do for you to get run over in the street by a horse cart due to our negligence, would it? There, that's it, slow and steady. Now, you rest there and Meg and I will get all your packages for you."

I was grateful for Madame Giry's constant chatter for it was having a calming effect on the woman as she was led to the low fence and Madame helped her to sit, then she and Meg gathered all the packages the woman had been carrying and brought them over to where she sat. I tried to remain inconspicuous, but the woman's eyes found mine and she gazed at me intently. I fidgeted and shifted my feet uncomfortably under her stare.

Presently, convinced that she was not going to faint again, I moved closer to her. "Madame, I am terribly sorry for giving you such a start. Truly, I never meant to cause such a violent reaction, I only wanted to help you with your packages as you seemed to be struggling."

She whispered something so low, I could not hear her, her eyes still locked on mine. I leaned closer and asked her to repeat what she had said. "It's Mademoiselle," she replied, only slightly louder.

I frowned, not comprehending.

"I am not married," she clarified. "So, it's Mademoiselle."

"Oh!" I said. "Are you truly well now Mademoiselle?" I was concerned as she did not seem to have regained much color.

"I am better, yes," she replied, her voice still barely above a whisper. She took a deep breath and seemed to steady herself. "Please forgive me. I am not given to fainting and I am terribly embarrassed by my silly reaction. It is just that you remind me very strongly of the very person who used to live in that house. She passed away many years ago, but when I saw you coming down the walkway, and in the gathering dusk, I was nearly convinced I was seeing a ghost." She laughed, nervously.

"I see," I said. " Well, Mademoiselle, as you can seen, I am no ghost!" I tried, weakly, to lighten the atmosphere with a bit of humor.

"Yes," she agreed, although she didn't sound completely convinced.

"I am Christine Daae," I said, extending my hand. "And these ladies with me are Madame and Meg Giry, my friends and companions."

She reached out and took my hand in hers. I could feel how cold and clammy they still were. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Marie Perrault."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

When Mademoiselle Perrault was feeling more herself, Madame Giry, Meg and I walked her the short distance to her home. I walked a bit behind, pondering again her strange reaction to having seen me. I was more than a little puzzled by it. I wondered if, perhaps, I had a distant relative who had lived in this area. This seemed unlikely as I knew that neither my father or mother had any known living siblings. It could be a distant cousin descended from great-grandparents, perhaps. I didn't know, but I was certainly intrigued by the thought of the woman who had looked so much like me. I wanted to know more about this woman, but I did not dare ask Mademoiselle Perrault. Not tonight, anyway. Perhaps tomorrow, after she'd had an opportunity to settle in her mind that I was no ghost but a flesh and blood woman who simply happened to bear a passing resemblance to this other person.

When we reached Mademoiselle Perrault's home, Madame Giry asked her once again if she was alright. She replied that she was, indeed, feeling quite splendid now, thank you and wanted to know if we cared to stay for some tea. I sensed that, despite her earlier shock, Mademoiselle Perrault was probably quite lonely living here all alone. We lingered long enough for some tea and chatted about trivial things. Though I said very little, I often looked up to find Mademoiselle Perrault's eyes upon me, studying me. I found it very disconcerting, to say the least.

We finished our tea and said our goodbyes, promising to call again tomorrow and make sure she was well. Raoul had planned for us to spend the entire day here tomorrow and leave at first light the following morning, so we had plenty of time. We walked back to the inn in total darkness with only a dim lantern to light our way, borrowed from Mademoiselle Perrault. Meg was convinced there were werewolves and vampires hiding behind every tree and stone wall we passed and more than once she squealed in terror at one shadow or another until we were all on edge and in a near panic by the time we reached the inn. I vowed to go through Meg's book collection as soon as I was able to do so and rid it of all of the silly, sensational novels full of such creatures as vampires, werewolves and ghosts. It was hardly appropriate reading for a respectable young lady anyway.

Since we had partaken of an early supper, none of us were really hungry, so we just traipsed up to our rooms and bid each other a weary good night. I went to my room and Meg and Madame Giry retired to their shared room. As I readied myself for bed, I kept thinking of Mademoiselle Perrault and her mysterious friend who looked like me. I wondered who she was and what she had been like. I knew it was ridiculous of me, but I wondered if the trunk in the attic possibly contained anything that had belonged to her. I wondered about her life; had she been married? Did she have children or any family? How had she died? I sighed. It was no use wondering. There was no way to know unless Mademoiselle Perrault wanted to tell me. I would check the trunk, however, tomorrow.

As my thoughts turned to the trunk in the attic, naturally, I thought of Raoul and the whole reason for this trip. I simply could find no way to justify accepting a house from him. More and more I understood that there would be no future for Raoul and me. I loved him, but I did not want to marry him. It pained me to come to that realization because I knew that Raoul deserved to have a love that was all encompassing. He deserved to have a woman who would love him more than life itself. Someone who could love him as much as he loved her. I was not that woman, I knew now. Convincing Raoul of that, however, was going to be difficult. Accepting the house would be a step in the wrong direction. Oh, how I wished I were wealthy! Then I could buy the house from him and that way I wouldn't have to feel as if I were beholden to him for accepting his ridiculously extravagant gift.

I lay there in the darkness, once again wrestling with my thoughts. Not only was I not wealthy, I didn't even have a position with which to make any money! Surely I had some kind of skill that I could utilize. But what? I couldn't sew or cook and knew nothing about managing a household. I had applied to become a governess or companion, but was rejected due to my background as a singer. Perhaps I could sing for my supper each evening, I thought with bitter amusement. Surely someone would...

I suddenly sat upright in the bed, my eyes wide in the darkness. That was it! I could offer voice lessons! I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner, but now that I had thought of it, it seemed so obvious. All young ladies needed to have at least a passable voice so that they could entertain their dinner guests. While an actress and singer was not an appropriate companion, perhaps a vocal teacher would be a different matter. After all, I had been taught by the very best, hadn't I? And maybe, in time, I could open up my own school! But I was getting ahead of myself. First I had to find out if there were families who would pay me to teach their daughters to sing.

I had just begun to relax again when another thought struck me. If I could earn money in this way, might I not be able to save enough to pay Raoul for the house, thus making it truly mine? I supposed that would depend on how much I would earn for each student and how many students I could teach at a time. By now, I found that I was far too excited to sleep, so I fumbled around in the darkness until I was able to light a lamp. In the dim light, I padded across the cold floor to the small desk that stood by the window. I found the little journal that I had been keeping and sat down at the desk and began to write. I wrote of all of my plans and ideas and, finally, about my odd encounter with Marie Perrault.

I wrote feverishly for the better part of two hours before I was forced by fatigue to close the journal and climb back into the narrow bed. As I drifted off to sleep I heard the beautiful voice of my Angel singing to me, as if he were right here with me. It was so clear that I struggled to open my eyes to see if he were, indeed, there, but it was as if a lead weight had been attached to my eyelids. I ceased struggling and simply allowed myself to drift along, the haunting melody carrying me away. That night I dreamt of Erik. We were dancing in a beautiful ballroom, the music swelling up around us and filling our hearts with such emotion that we both wept as we swept through the room in each other's arms. Erik was masked, as always and I reached for his mask to remove it, when he grasped my hand. He leaned close to me and whispered in my ear. "Did you mean it, Christine? Do you truly love me as you said?"

What a ridiculous question, I thought, and laughed. "Of course I meant it, silly. You are one half of my soul, Erik. What can I do to make you understand that?"

I realized, then, that we were no longer dancing, but only standing on the dance floor. There were no other people there, just the two of us, still holding each other, Erik's eyes gazing into mine intensely.

"A kiss," Erik said, his voice a whisper. "I'd like a kiss for my birthday. Will you grant me that, Christine?"

The atmosphere had changed and we suddenly stood in the attic of the little house I had looked at earlier today. "A kiss?" I asked, laughing nervously. "Surely there are better things you could ask for for your birthday. Wouldn't you rather have a pony or perhaps a building block set?"

Erik turned from me, then. He began walking away, his head bowed sadly. I called to him, my hand reaching out for him. "Erik, wait!" I cried as I began to run toward him. "Please, don't go!" I couldn't seem to get any closer to him, no matter how hard I ran. I made one final lunge for him and my hand closed on a scrap of cloth. I looked down and saw that I was holding his tear stained mask in my hands.

I awoke with my hand grasping a piece of cloth and I nearly shrieked until I realized that I had merely grasped a corner of the sheet in my hand. My heart was pounding and I laid back on the pillow to allow myself to slowly come to reality. What had it meant, I wondered? Why did Erik ask for a kiss for his birthday and why on earth would I not simply give him what he'd asked rather than offering him things that a child might ask for for a birthday gift? Sighing, I soon drifted back to sleep. I did not dream again.

The following morning, as we ate breakfast, I told Madame Giry and Meg about my idea for becoming a vocal teacher.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, my dear," Madame Giry exclaimed. "I am glad you have thought of something that will utilize your talent. I was so afraid you wouldn't sing again with all that has happened."

"Oh, Madame, I could never give up singing. If this works out, perhaps some day I can open my own school and teach other young girls to sing."

"Christine! That would be wonderful! You could teach them vocal techniques and I could teach them dance and Maman could help run the school and keep us all in line, just as she did at the opera house!" Meg clapped her hands and grinned excitedly. I couldn't help but smile back. I hadn't thought of us all going in together, but it certainly sounded like it could work. The possibilities of such a venture were only just beginning to occur to me and I was becoming more and more excited at the thought.

"I hadn't thought of that," I said, my mind already envisioning all the possibilities. "Meg is right, all three of us have a much better chance of succeeding than if I do it alone. What do you think, Madame?

Madame Giry sat back in her chair and gazed at us for a moment before replying. "I think it is a good idea, but it is something that we must think carefully about before deciding anything. None of us has ever run a business before, so we have no idea of how to go about it. We'd need a solicitor to handle paperwork and we'd need to learn how to handle the financial side of the business as well. Perhaps if we had a wealthy patron who was willing to help fund a school, it would be much easier."

"A patron?" Meg asked, her brow furrowing. "You mean like the Vicomte is the patron at the opera house?"

"Yes, very much like that. If we had someone willing to allow us to borrow enough to start the school, then we could pay them back when the school became profitable."

"I suppose three women attempting to start a business would not be very attractive to most wealthy businessmen, would it?" I said, glumly.

"Probably not, my dear," Madame Giry said. "But let us not dwell on it. We should set out soon to Mademoiselle Perrault's home to return her lantern and make sure she is quite recovered from last evening's fright."

"Ah, yes. I had almost forgotten about that. Perhaps I should stay while you and Meg go?"

"Nonsense," Madame said, matter-of-factly. "There are no ghosts and you cannot be blamed for resembling some woman who passed away years ago. Besides, if you were to decide to stay here, she would have to get used to seeing you around anyway, no? Come, let us go and be pleasant. Besides, I think she is lonely there. I feel quite sorry for her."

Madame Giry stood and Meg and I followed suit. We arrived at Mademoiselle Perrault's home a little later and knocked on the door. She seemed glad to see us and insisted we stay for a while. As we sat in her small parlor sipping tea we again fell into small talk and pleasantries. I had begun to wonder if her episode from yesterday evening had actually happened when she turned to me. "Mademoiselle Daae, I must beg your forgiveness for yesterday. I was quite shaken when I saw you and I fear I didn't recover my wits well enough to properly apologize for my terrible behavior." She seemed sincerely upset at the thought that I may think poorly of her.

"Mademoiselle Perrault, there is nothing to forgive!" I hurried to assure her. "You simply mistook me for someone else. I could happen to anyone. I am just thankful that you seem much better today."

"Yes, I am. You are very kind to check on me this morning."

"Not at all. It is the least we could do," I said, smiling warmly. "I confess, though, I am very curious about this woman with whom I share a face! Tell me, Mademoiselle, what was her name?"

She looked uncomfortable suddenly, her eyes leaving mine and studying the floor. "Her name was Madeleine," she said, simply, offering no further clarification.

"Madeleine. What a lovely name," I said. "Were you very close to her, then?" I knew I was pressing into that territory that goes beyond being politely curious and blatantly rude, but I couldn't seem to help myself.

"Yes, we were close. She was my best friend since we were both girls away at school together."

"You must miss her very much then," I said, sympathetically.

"Yes, I do. Which is why seeing you coming from that house gave me such a fright!" she laughed, a little nervously. "It is really very striking, the resemblance between the two of you." She stopped, then asked, "Would you like to see a picture of her?"

"Oh, yes!" I replied, excited. Mademoiselle Perrault stood and walked over to a small box on her mantel. She removed a small key from her pocket, and placed it in the tiny lock in the wooden box. I heard a click as she turned the key, then opened the box and withdrew a small stack of yellowed papers tied with a length of twine. Secured to the papers with the twine was a daguerreotype. Mademoiselle Perrault removed the picture from under the twine carefully and replaced the papers in the box before bringing the picture to me.

When she handed the picture to me, I could not suppress a gasp of surprise. It was me!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

To say that I was surprised by the picture would be a gross understatement. I was certainly able to understand Mademoiselle Perrault's fainting spell yesterday evening, now. As I examined the picture more closely, I could see that there were some differences, but they were very minor, and it was obvious that the woman in the picture was much older than me. The terrible sadness in her eyes was almost too much to bear! What terrible grief could she have suffered to cause such a look? I looked back up at Mademoiselle Perrault, all of the questions I wanted to ask written plainly on my face.

"You see, then, why I was so shocked to see you yesterday?" She asked, her pale blue eyes fixed upon mine.

"I do," I replied, my eyes going back to the picture. I found I could look at it no longer and passed it to Madame Giry who studied it closely before handing it to Meg. "She seems so sad, Mademoiselle. What happened to cause her such grief?"

Mademoiselle Perrault turned away from me, then. "Madeleine had many burdens to bear, some of them her own doing, but that didn't lessen the weight of them. But let us not speak of such dismal things. How long will you be staying in town?"

Meg stood and carried the little picture back to Mademoiselle Perrault, then came and sat by me, for once blessedly silent. Mademoiselle Perrault replaced the picture within the twine, then closed and locked the box on the mantel. I was burning with curiosity about what other information may be contained within that box. Surely all of the contents pertained to the mysterious Madeleine. I was hardly able to contain a sigh of disappointment when I heard the "click" that signified the box was, once again, secure.

Madame Giry chatted with Mademoiselle Perrault several more minutes, while Meg and I listened politely, commenting occasionally. I inquired as to whether there were any families around who may have daughters that would soon be making a debut into society and Mademoiselle Perrault was able to supply a few names, though not many as most of the aristocratic families tended to live in Paris or Rouen. There were at least three families that had country estates that were not far outside of the little town, so all I had to do now was find out if they were in residence at this time of year and perhaps I could pay them a visit or at least send a letter to inquire as to their need. We finished our tea and bid Mademoiselle Perrault goodbye, promising to call again if we found that we would be staying long.

Once we were back out on the little street and walking in the direction of the house, I turned to Madame Giry. "That was certainly odd, don't you think?"

"Yes, it was," she agreed. "I was not expecting her to look quite so much like you. It was...surprising."

"She looked so sad. It seems that Mademoiselle Perrault is reluctant to speak of her. I wonder why?"

"I don't know, my dear, but sometimes it is better to leave the past undisturbed."

"Perhaps. I can't help but wonder about her, though. Do you think she could be a distant relative of mine?"

Madame smiled at me, then. "I suppose it is possible. I believe, though, that it is not healthy for a young vibrant lady such as yourself to dwell too long on such sad subjects. Besides, you still have a decision to make. Will you stay or will you go back to Paris with us?"

We had reached the front door and I now rested my hand on the doorknob. I stopped, thinking carefully about my next words, then I looked at Madame Giry. "I have given it much thought and I will not accept the house from Raoul unless he allows me to pay for it. I will go back to Paris with you tomorrow morning and speak to him personally about my intentions."

"I think you have made the right decision. I am proud of you, my dear." Madame reached for me then and gave me a quick hug before we stepped inside the little house for the second time. This time, we took our time, going through each room critically, deciding what to do with each space. When we climbed the stairs to the second floor, I again noticed the narrow door at the end of the short hallway. Feeling drawn as if by some invisible force, I walked toward it. Once again, I found myself assailed by a wave of heat as I opened the door and began the steep climb to the attic. When I reached the top, I was suddenly reminded of the dream I had had the night before in which Erik and I stood in this attic. Once again I thought how odd he had asked for a kiss as a birthday present. I supposed it was simply my tired mind conjuring up all sorts of strange things. I had always had a vivid imagination.

I looked around the attic with more interest this time, carefully examining each piece of furniture to determine if it could be repaired or not. There were two chairs that were very sturdy. One of them was missing an arm, which I found in another corner of the attic and the other had two legs missing, which were also thrown down in other sections. I decided that I would be able to use these chairs if I could find someone able to repair them. I filed that thought away for future reference, then I went about methodically going through all of the other items in the attic, saving the old trunk in the corner for last.

Last time I had been in here I hadn't noticed just how many things were actually up here. The heat had made my head hurt and I had been forced to leave. I decided to remedy that situation right now and headed to the little windows, to open them and allow a breeze to blow through. I was taken aback to find that both of the windows had, at some point, been nailed shut, and from the outside so that the nails could not be removed. On the outside sill of the window overlooking the garden, I realized that, though the nails were still there, this window had obviously been replaced, but without bothering to nail it shut on the outside. As I wrenched the window open, I was further puzzled to find a piece of a board also nailed to the outside wall beside the window. It looked as if this window had, at one time, been boarded up. I wondered why on earth someone would board up the windows of an attic.

Giving up on my idea of a nice breeze flowing through both windows, I decided to just go through the attic as quickly as possible while it was still a couple of hours away from the hottest part of the day. I had already begun to perspire as I took inventory of the items in the attic. Most of the things I found were simply odds and ends of various things. There were some mismatched dishes, some moth eaten clothing that were little more than rags now and some newspapers. Once I had made sure that there was nothing else useful in the attic, I headed for the trunk and sat down before it. Spying a lock upon it, I was suddenly sure that it would be locked and my anticipation would have been for nothing. Already feeling the disappointment, I pushed up on the trunk lid and was surprised when it gave. It was not locked. I sighed in relief, pushed the lid all the way open and peered inside.

It was hard to see in the shadows of the attic, so I shoved the trunk over to an area where the sunlight was shining through the little window. That's better, I thought as I began to rummage through the trunk. Inside, the first thing I saw were books and, beside those, a stack of papers. I pulled out the first book and found it was on architecture. The second book was the same, as were the third and fourth books. I was, apparently, looking at a sort of architectural collection. I didn't know anything about architecture, but I knew that Erik was very interested in that type of thing and I made a mental note to tell him of these books when I saw him next. I set the books aside and pulled out the stack of papers.

My heart began to pound in my chest when I pulled out one paper in particular. It was a marriage certificate. I read through it and learned that Madeleine's husband's name had been Charles and they had, apparently, married in nearby Rouen. I set it carefully aside, and dug through the other papers to find more information. There was a letter, addressed to Charles and Madeleine at a hotel in London. I opened the yellowing envelope carefully so as not to tear it and slowly pulled the letter out. As I read the letter I realized that they had been on their honeymoon when this letter had arrived and it stated that they should come home at once for both of Madeleine's parents had been taken very ill. It would seem that they had contracted cholera. I guessed that they had likely died of the illness, as not many survived for long. Oh how terrible, I thought, to be on one's honeymoon only to be called back to attend the death of one's parents. I was filled with sympathy for the young Madeleine.

I set the letter aside and picked up a little book that looked like a journal. Skimming through it, I soon realized that that was exactly what it had been. I read through several pages and realized that it was, apparently Madeleine's journal. From the dates it looked as if she had kept it from the time she was sixteen for it started with an account of her sixteenth birthday party. Soon she was describing how she met Charles as he worked with her father. I had to smile as the pages were so filled with silly teenage romanticisms and descriptions of the oh-so-handsome-and-witty-and-perfect-in-every-way Charles. Today he looked at me, she would write, and I nearly died of pleasure. I put a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. I skimmed through the diary and learned that she and Charles had fallen madly in love and married within a year. There was a long gap between entries then, after her marriage. The next entry was very painful to read as she described how she had come home to find her parents had passed before she arrived. She realized she was pregnant almost immediately and wrote of her frustration that Charles wouldn't allow her into her parents home to go through their things for fear of her contracting the dreaded cholera. There was another gap and then she wrote of finding this house during a visit with Marie Perrault and how she had wanted it. She was very certain that she had but to ask and her Charles would make sure the house was hers before long. It seemed Madeleine was still very immature and demanding, I thought.

The entries after that were sporadic and mostly concerned with how fat and ungainly she believed herself to be growing during her pregnancy. There was one entry in which she lamented the fact that she was now so fat she could no longer fit through the narrow doorway to the attic and so must ask Charles to fetch anything she might need from there. I giggled at that picture. She described the lovely crib they bought for the baby and how they had decorated the room in which he would sleep. Apparently, they had decided early on that this would be a son, I thought with some amusement.

I was about to put the little journal away to finish some other time when I came upon one of the last entries. I was shocked to learn that Charles had been killed in an accident on one of his work sites. This entry was barely coherent as it seemed as if Madeleine had, apparently, tried to make sense of this tragedy through recording her thoughts. Her grief was terrible to read about and I felt tears stinging the back of my eyes as I read. There was a gap of nearly a month and then her last entry.

_The midwife visited me today and she says that I shall likely deliver before the week is over. I should be excited, but I miss Charles so much that it hurts sometimes. At least soon I shall hold his son in my arms. I just know that he will look just like his father. Already he is strong, I feel him moving and kicking as if he is eager to enter the world. Knowing that I will have Charles' son is the only thing that keeps me sane and gives me the strength to go on these days. I hope the midwife is correct. If so, I shall be holding you in my arms very soon, my son. I look forward to our meeting. Ah, there is Marie at the door, so I must go for now._

I thumbed through the empty pages following that entry but found no other writings. I thought it very odd, but perhaps she was simply too busy with a new baby in the house to find time to write in her diary. A thought suddenly occurred to me. What if her child had died shortly after birth? Perhaps that is the reason for there being no other entries. Such things happened all the time, it was certainly a plausible explanation and the most likely one. I can't imagine that I would want to write anymore after every hope for my future had been taken from me. For a moment I sat there, imagining the terrible blows poor Madeleine had endured. Her parents, then her husband and, most likely, her child soon after. It was more than any woman should have to bear.

Wiping the perspiration from my brow, I replaced the journal. I was about to go through the rest of the papers when I heard Meg calling from the bottom of the stairs. "Christine, do come down! Mama and I are simply dying of starvation down here! You must come down and save us before you have to call the coroner to take our bodies away!"

Trust Meg to be melodramatic, I thought as I quickly replaced the contents of the trunk. As I tried to arrange the papers as I had found them, my hand grazed the bottom of the trunk and I drew back with a gasp, my finger bleeding. Frowning, I pushed the papers aside, and there, on the bottom of the trunk lay a shard of glass. A piece of a mirror by the look of it. What an odd thing! Meg called again, and I closed the trunk and hurried down the stairs.

We walked back to the inn and discussed the house and made plans over lunch. I relayed to Meg and Madame Giry what all I had found in the trunk, then showed them my cut finger where the mirror shard had brushed against me. Meg oohed sympathetically over my finger, but Madame Giry only frowned slightly, saying nothing.

The rest of the day we spent resting and preparing to leave at first light the following morning. After lunch, I decided to go up to my room and take a nap. As I lay there, drifting off toward sleep, I was satisfied that I had made the right decision regarding the house. I had definitely fallen in love with it, just as Raoul predicted, and I had become even more enamored of it since learning of the tragic Madeleine. I felt so badly for her. It just seemed so unfair to me, all of the tragedy in her short life. Then, I remembered Mademoiselle Perrault's remark that some of Madeleine's burdens had been of her own making. What had she meant by that, I wondered? The poor girl certainly couldn't help that she had lost everything that mattered to her! I supposed that it was just like all those old maiden aunts that young ladies always seem to have. These aunts have never been married or had any children, but somehow seem to consider themselves experts on both subjects. I smiled a little wryly at the thought before I drifted all the way into a lovely restful sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The day following our arrival back at Madame Giry's home, I decided to go see Raoul and explain my decision to him in person, rather than writing a letter to him. I knew this was going to be difficult as Raoul had, thus far, stubbornly clung to his belief that I would eventually see that he and I belonged together. I hated to hurt him further, but I knew that I must tell him the truth.

When I arrived at the De Chagny house, I knocked on the door and waited for what seemed days before a maid opened the door. She eyed me with barely concealed distaste when I asked to see Vicomte De Chagny. Reluctantly, she showed me to the parlor, then left me. I stood gazing out the window thinking of the last time I had been in this room. It seemed history was doomed to repeat itself, I thought, with little amusement.

"Christine!" Raoul smiled happily as he entered the room and took me by the hands. "I trust you had a good journey to Boscherville and back?"

"Yes," I replied. "It was lovely. The journey and the village, I mean. And the house. It was all very lovely." I was stammering, suddenly nervous. I took a breath and disentangled my hands from his. That seemed to help. "What I mean is, we had a very enjoyable trip and the house was...well...lovely." At that we both laughed and I relaxed a little. Raoul had been my best friend years ago and I hoped that we could at least salvage our friendship out of this whole mess.

"Ah, I knew you would love it, little Lotte. I knew it the moment I saw it." He looked at me with so much love that I could hardly bear to hold his gaze.

"I do love it, Raoul. It is just perfect and I want to keep it, but you and I need to discuss some things first."

"What do you mean you want to keep it? Of course you will keep it, it is yours, silly."

"Yes, I know you had the papers drawn up to make it mine, but that doesn't mean that I have to keep it. You see, it is too extravagant a gift for me to simply accept it. That is why I have come to see you this morning. There are some things that I have to make you understand. If I accept the house and simply move in, I will feel beholden to you. I know that is not your intention, Raoul. I know you well enough to know that you have nothing but my well being in mind, but other people will not be so generous in their imaginings."

"Other people can be hanged for all I care!" Raoul burst out. "You are always so concerned with what other people think! Can't you see? I don't care what other people think. They will see soon enough when you and I are married and then they will wish they hadn't had such thoughts."

"Perhaps you don't care now, but at some point you will, Raoul. Please listen to what I have to say. What I am proposing is that I purchase the house from you."

Raoul stared at me a moment as if I had just casually mentioned that I was visiting from another planet, then he burst out laughing. "You want to _buy_ it from me?"

Insulted, I raised my chin up a notch and glared at him. "That is what I said, is it not?"

"Forgive me, my darling, but the idea of you buying the house from me is simply ridiculous. For one, I would never allow it and two, you have no means to pay for it. Oh, my little Christine, you always manage to surprise me. Won't you simply accept the house and let it be? It's not as if you will be living there all your life, anyway."

Closing my eyes, I counted to ten and tried to hold my anger in check. I had never had a quick temper before, but suddenly I wanted to scream in anger and frustration. I took a moment to compose myself, then continued. "No, I don't have the means right now, but Madame Giry, Meg and I have decided that we will open a school for young girls. I will handle vocal lessons and Meg will offer dance while Madame Giry manages the school. Until we are able to open the school, I thought I would attempt to acquire a position as a vocal teacher to young ladies about to make their debut into society. I believe that having a passable singing voice is a requirement for all young ladies to entertain guests, is it not?"

Raoul's look of amusement faded as I talked. "I suppose it is a skill that could be useful. But if you are trying to pay me for the house, how will you have the money to open the school?"

"I don't know," I said quietly. "We haven't worked out all the details, yet, but I just know that our school will be a success."

"I have no doubt that it would be, my darling," Raoul said, softly. "But you know that you will eventually have to give that up when we have a family. I know you don't want me to bring that up right now and I promised to give you some time, but I also know how very much I love you and I will not be put off forever, Christine."

"I know that, Raoul. That is the other reason I am here today. I want you to know that I never wanted to hurt you. You have been my friend since we were little and that is the very last thing I would ever want. I know you love me and you imagine that we are meant to be together, but I know now it is not meant to be. I care for you, Raoul, but not in the same way you love me. I have been confused for many months about my feelings for you and I have finally come to realize that my love for you is not the love that you want or need. You deserve to have a woman who loves you with all her heart and will marry you no matter what the consequences. I am not that woman, Raoul."

"What are you saying, Christine?" Raoul had taken a step back and I could see his knuckles were white where he gripped the back of a chair. "Are you saying that you don't love me?"

"That's not it, Raoul. I know it's hard for you to see, but our relationship is never going to work. You and I want different things. You want a wife who will manage your household and bear you children and live contentedly only seeing the opera from a special box above the audience. I want to be on that stage! Not viewing it from a box. I want to be involved in every part of it. I want to teach other young girls the skills that I have been taught and watch them shine on that stage as well. I love the opera, Raoul and it will always be a part of me."

"I didn't realize it meant that much to you, but that is a minor consideration. It changes nothing. If you wish to continue your stage career, then you shall. You know I would never try to keep you from what you love!"

"I know you wouldn't, but it's more than that. We come from two completely different worlds. But even if we could overcome that, even if we moved far away, it would still not be enough, Raoul."

"How could it not be enough? Our love is enough, Christine! What is this that you are saying to me? We made promises to each other, promises that I will honor. I believe in us, in our love! There was a time when you believed in that too. You said you loved me."

"I do love you, but as my friend, not as I should love my future husband. I am sorry, Raoul." I looked at him, miserably, unsure what else to say.

I could see that he was trying hard to control his emotions. His eyes had filled with unshed tears and he struggled to keep them from falling. "You don't mean that," he finally managed, his voice thick. "You love me, Christine, you're just confused right now."

My own tears had begun to fall now. "No, Raoul. I am seeing clearly for the first time in a very long time. It breaks my heart to hurt you like this!"

"Then don't!" He cried, crossing the room quickly and taking my hands in his. "Don't do this, Christine, don't leave me like this. You can learn to love me as a husband, I know it. I am willing to accept that, Christine, I want to marry you and I know you will learn to love me as a wife should eventually. We are meant for each other! Why can't you see that? The love I have for you is enough for both of us for now. Stay with me, Christine."

His tears were flowing, unnoticed down his cheeks now. His eyes, so blue, so full of anguish, looked at me, pleading with me. Everything within me cried out to comfort him, to say whatever he wanted me to say to just make him stop looking at me like that, stop breaking his heart like this.

"No, Raoul. I can't do that. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry." It seemed so little. So pathetic to offer a pitiful "I'm sorry," as if that would erase all of his pain. I knew that it couldn't and yet, I didn't know what else I could say. For I truly was sorry. I reached up and wiped the tears from his eyes, then I kissed his wet cheek. "Goodbye, Raoul," I whispered as I felt a sob rising in my throat. I choked it back as best I could and walked around him and out the door.

When I arrived back at Madame Giry's, she took one look at my face and simply hugged me silently. I had never been so grateful for her presence before. I cried until I am sure I ruined her dress completely. She rocked me back and forth as if I were a child and I realized all that I had missed by not having a mother all those years and began to cry even harder. Presently, when the sobs had finally subsided, I got up and helped Madame and Agnes with dinner. I was not ready to talk about it,yet, so for once, I was very grateful for Meg's inane chatter at the table that evening. I excused myself early and went to bed, falling into a restless sleep.

I awakened sometime in the night and was unable to go back to sleep. I got up and crept out the kitchen door and walked in the garden, hoping against hope that Erik would come back to check on Madame Giry. I was disappointed when, after about an hour of walking around aimlessly, there was no sign of him. Trying to swallow my disappointment, I walked back to the kitchen door and tried to open it. It was locked! I took a deep breath and tried again. Same result, it was locked. I didn't want to wake Madame Giry or Meg and I wasn't certain that they could hear me from their bedrooms even if I did begin beating on the door, so I crept out of the garden and around to the front of the house, feeling my way through the dark. I stepped on something sharp and had to bite my lip to keep from crying out as I felt my way around the corner to the front of the house.

There was no moon out tonight, so it made my task that much harder. I finally reached the porch and climbed the steps to try the front door. I knew it would be locked, but I had been hopeful enough that I was now disappointed to find that it was, indeed, locked.

Miserably, I sat down on the front steps, thinking about what I should do now. I decided that, despite the fact that they were bound to wonder what I had been doing out in the middle of the night, I had to awaken Meg or Madame Giry to let me in. I walked out to the street and gathered a few rocks, then back to the small front yard. I positioned myself under Meg's window and threw one of the rocks. It flew wide, missing the house altogether. I sighed. It was going to be a long night.

"Ah, look what I've found out here all alone in the middle of the night, no less" The voice,coming from the darkness behind me, made me jump and I dropped the few rocks I had been holding and whirled around, searching for it's source.

"Who's there?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"All in good time,love, all in good time. Now be a good girl and don't scream and I promise to be gentle" the voice said, closer now. I couldn't see in the darkness, but I was certain that I likely made a fairly easy target for him in my white shift. In a blind panic, I turned and ran, not knowing or caring where I was going, only knowing instinctively that I must get away from whomever this was, right now.

"You're gonna regret that," he said, just inches behind me it seemed. I felt a hand grasp my shoulder and as I tried to wrench out of his grasp, his full weight barreled into me and we fell, together, to the ground. I immediately twisted and tried to get back up, but a large hand grabbed me and pulled me back down. I clawed at him with my nails, not knowing what parts of him I might be scratching, but hoping somehow I might manage to cause him some injury. I must have done some damage because I heard him cry out in pain and the next thing I knew, pain exploded on the left side of my head as he slammed his fist into my face. I cried out and he hit me again. Time seemed to slow down, though it could only have lasted mere minutes. All of the fight had gone out of me by then and my brain could only register one concept; escape. Despite my sobbing pleas for him to stop, again and again his fist connected with my flesh. He didn't seem to care where it landed, my head, neck, shoulders. I felt his weight leave me as he stood and I had a moment's relief until he kicked me and I felt, as well as heard, a sickening snap in my ribcage. Near unconscious now, I tried to crawl away and this infuriated him further. He grasped my hair and dragged me back and I could smell the stink of him despite the fact that blood was now pouring from my nose. I tried to plead with him, but was incapable of speech by now, then he hit me again and everything went black.

I don't know how much later it was when I awakened, but I was in complete darkness. As my thoughts struggled to become more coherent, I assumed that the darkness meant I will still outside and my attacker could be anywhere, since I no longer felt him holding me down. I tried to push myself up but was prevented from moving by the incredible pain that shot through my body. I cried out in agony and I heard another voice, this one soothing. "Be still, Christine. You mustn't move. No, don't speak either, it will only cause you more pain. You must do as I command now, do you understand?"

I turned toward the voice of my Angel in the darkness, trying desperately to see him. I reached for him, blindly, and felt his cold hand grasp mine and I closed my eyes and allowed the darkness to claim me once again.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Gradually, I ascended once again to consciousness, but still in complete darkness. I felt as if my eyes were wide open, but I could see nothing and panic washed over me once more. I fought hard to stay calm and, at length my heart beat began to slow. I lay there, completely still, willing myself to think, to remember. I had gone out to the garden, hoping that Erik would be there, then tried to get back into the house only to learn the door had been locked. I remembered going to the front of the house, gathering small rocks and missing Meg's window, then a voice...

Tears began to run down my cheeks as I was suddenly back in that moment, trying desperately to escape but unable to get away. My calm dissipated once again and I began to fight against invisible hands and my breathing came in harsh gasps. "No!" I cried. "Please, no more!"

"Christine?" I heard a voice call from a distance. "Quick, she is awake. Go get the potion Monsieur Erik left for us."

Madame Giry? I tried to relax, to calm down, but I was so frightened. I couldn't see! "Madame!" I cried. "Help me, Madame, I am here! Please help me!"

"Shh, you are safe now, child," Madame Giry said softly and I felt her hands smoothing my hair back from my forehead, but even her gentle touch caused a lightning bolt of pain through my head. I moaned in pain and drew back from her touch. I felt her reach down and take my hand in hers and the warmth was comforting. I began to relax.

"Madame?" I croaked, my voice cracking.

"I am here, my dear. You're safe now." Her tone was soothing, but I could hear the tears in her voice. Whatever had been done to me, it must be very bad, I thought. "Don't talk now, child. Meg has gone to fetch a special potion that Monsieur Erik made for you. It will help you sleep and recover."

"Erik?" I whispered. "Is Erik here?"

"No, dear, he has gone out for a while, but he will be back soon. Rest now, dear."

It wasn't long before Meg returned with a bitter tasting tea. I had to be helped into a sitting position to drink it and the pain was nearly unbearable as I struggled against it. My head hurt, but my abdomen, where I had been kicked hurt more than anything else. Every breath I took sent waves of agony washing over me. I found that my lips were swollen and cut when I went to sip the tea and most of it spilled down my chin and the front of my shift. When I had finished the tea, Meg and Madame helped me lie back down and soon I began to feel the effects of the tea. The pain dulled a bit and I reached a hand up to my face and discovered that one entire side was swollen so badly that I could barely stand to touch it. Both eyes were swollen nearly shut, which I assumed was what accounted for my inability to see. At least I hoped that was it. Once the swelling subsided some, I should be able to see, I thought, fighting back another wave of panic at the thought of remaining in this terrible darkness indefinitely.

Right before unconsciousness once again claimed me, I managed to ask Madame Giry how long I had been here like this. "Two days," she replied, her warm hand still clasping mine.

"Wake me when Erik returns, please, Madame," I whispered, my words beginning to slur.

"Shh, don't try to talk now. Erik will be here soon."

I don't know how much time had passed again when I awakened. Fortunately, the panic did not return upon my awakening this time and I was relieved. Slowly, I opened my eyes as much as the swelling allowed, but was disappointed to find that I was still in darkness. I turned my head to the side experimentally and found that the pain had dulled to a tolerable level. I then tried to raise myself up, but found the pain in my ribs had not dulled and I fell back onto the bed with a cry.

"Christine, did I not tell you to be still?" My angel was exasperated with me.

"Erik?" I said, turning blindly toward his voice, my hand groping for him in the darkness.

"I am here, my love." His voice now sounded as if he were whispering in my ear and I felt his cold hands once again enclose my own.

"Erik," I said again, my voice growing thick with tears. I didn't know why his presence should overwhelm me with such emotion, but I was helpless against the tide, now that it had begun. "Don't leave me." My voice was a whisper now, my throat began to throb as I fought back the tears.

"Shh, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, my love." His beautiful voice, so close had such power to calm and soothe me.

"It's dark, Erik. I can't see you. I can't see.." I said, gripping his hand tighter.

"I know, but I am here. There is nothing to fear in the darkness now. I am here and nothing will ever harm you again, Christine. Nothing and no one." His words were meant to be soothing, but I heard the dangerous edge behind them. I shivered, despite the warmth of the room. I didn't know who had attacked me or why, but I was certain that he was either dead or would be very soon.

"Thank you," I whispered and closed my eyes, still holding onto his hand as if it were the only thing keeping me alive. There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but I hadn't the strength and I wasn't certain that I wanted the answers right now at any rate. It wasn't long before I drifted back to sleep.

My next awakening proved to be much more productive, though I still was unable to see. I felt Erik's presence in the room with me immediately and reached for him, without saying a word. His hand closed over mine and held it tightly. I tried to smile at him, but I found that the swelling made any kind of facial contortion nearly impossible. I imagined that I must have given him a look that was somewhere between a grimace and some kind of crazed leer and I nearly laughed, but tried to choke that back quickly, anticipating what pain I'd feel if I gave in to that particular temptation. The thought sobered me immediately.

"Erik?"

"Yes, Christine?"

"How bad is it?"

He was silent, then, and I knew he did not want to answer me. "You must tell me, Erik. If you don't, then I shall ask Meg and you know she has a melodramatic streak."

"You are not well enough to resort to blackmail, Mademoiselle," he replied, his voice toneless, though I thought there may have been a trace of amusement. "But if you insist on attempting it, then you should know that I invented the very concept of blackmail, so, please, by all means, ask Meg."

I would have frowned, but was unable to for obvious reasons. "I am not a child and I won't be treated like one," I said, petulantly. "I want to know exactly what is wrong with me. I still cannot see and I can feel that some of the swelling has gone down around my eyes. I should be able to see something, some light, at least, something!" My voice was rising as I fought the panic that was also rising.

"Be still, Christine," Erik said, his voice weary now. "You should not exert yourself so much. You need rest now. Let me sing for you. You would like that, no?"

I fought the hypnotic power of his voice. "No, Erik," I said, resisting. "I need to know, can't you understand? I must know."

His hand released mine abruptly and then I heard the sound of him pacing back and forth, the tension within him almost palpable.

"Please, Erik."

"You want to know? I can barely look at you for the rage that comes over me," he growled. I could feel the anger emanating from him in waves, now. I was frightened, but I tried hard to conceal it from him. I should have known that hiding anything from him would be impossible. "Does that frighten you, Mademoiselle? It should. For many years I have held to a promise I made not to kill wantonly and I have held to that promise with very few variations. But when I saw you like this, my rage was more than I could bear. Never before have I killed with such pleasure. The screams in my ears were like the sweetest symphony ever composed and still, it was not enough to satiate the beast seeing your face awakened within me. You wish to know how bad it is? There are four dead and I will not stop until I have toppled an empire."

I could feel hot tears sliding down my cheeks and I turned my head away from the direction of his voice. Immediately, he was beside me, his hand once again clasping mine. "Forgive me, Christine! I cannot bear to see you cry, my beloved. I would give all that I have to keep you from such pain! Forgive me for my foolish outburst. I would cut the tongue from the very throat of any man who dared cause you to shed a single tear and here I am, frightening you like the monster that I am! Please forgive me, my Christine."

"Oh, Erik," I said, turning back to the sound of his voice, so contrite. I groped toward the sound with my hand until I found his masked face. I could feel the wetness from his tears. "There is nothing to forgive. I love you, my Angel, my Erik."

He went completely still under my hand and I felt his hand tighten on mine. "You must not say such things, Christine, you are not well and you don't know what you are saying." His voice was so careful, so deliberately calm.

"I do know what I am saying, Erik. I am saying I love you. Please don't leave me anymore."

"Christine!" It was Raoul's voice, coming from behind Erik, filled with anguish and hurt.

At once, Erik was up and away from me. I could feel his presence still in the room, but I couldn't see him. Confused, I tried to sit up. "Raoul?" I said, trying in vain to see him or see anything, for that matter. "Erik? Where did you go?"

"I am here, Christine. Lie down now. The Vicomte has come to visit you. I will be back later." His voice was entirely devoid of emotion.

"Erik, don't go!" I called, but he had, apparently already left the room.

A dreadful silence descended the room, then. I was beginning to think that Raoul had gone when I heard his voice, nearer the bed now. "Christine?" He said, confusion still evident in his voice.

I turned my head toward his voice, exhausted from all the emotion thus far today. "Raoul," I said, tiredly. "It is good of you to come and see me."

"Christine, you're looking past me. Can you not see me?" Raoul's voice was troubled.

I laughed, weakly. "I'm afraid not. I think that my eyes have simply not recovered sufficiently, perhaps. I haven't been able to see since...well, since I awoke."

I heard Raoul take in a breath, as if steeling himself, then he said, "I brought you some flowers. I came as soon as I heard you had been...as soon as I knew. Are you truly well, little Lotte?"

"I suppose I am. I can get no one to tell me how bad it truly is. I must look absolutely horrid. I hate that you have to see me like this."

"You look beautiful, Christine. The beauty you possess goes far beyond physical appearance." Raoul's voice was soft, now and infinitely sad. I knew he wanted badly to ask me about what he'd overheard, but was too gentlemanly to bring it up, especially seeing the shape I was in.

"It is kind of you to say so," I replied, awkwardly. "Raoul, what you heard just now..."

"Not now, Christine. We'll talk when you are well. I should have announced my presence when I came in instead of skulking about like a thief."

I laughed a little at the thought of Raoul skulking around corners like some backstreet hoodlum, but it hurt my ribs even to laugh a little and I must have gasped in pain for Raoul was instantly at my side. "Are you okay? I'm sorry! I shouldn't be here keeping you from your rest."

"I'm fine, Raoul, I just found the picture of you "skulking" highly amusing and I tried to laugh. Unfortunately broken ribs are not conducive to laughter."

"Oh," he said, simply. I could sense there was something besides my relationship with Erik that he wanted to discuss with me, but was hesitant to do so.

"What is it, Raoul? I know you well enough to know there is something you wish to talk to me about."

"Who did this, Christine? Who would do this to you and why? I swear, I shall utilize every resource I have to track down the animal who could have done this to you!"

"There is no need, Vicomte De Chagny, the 'animal' has been taken care of." Erik was once again in the room and the chill I heard in his voice was apparent enough that it could have lowered the temperature in the room by several degrees. I sighed in exasperation. It was quite ridiculous, really, the way each of them was always walking in just in time to hear the wrong thing said by the other. It was almost as if it had been contrived in some silly and poorly written romantic novel.

I could envision Raoul stiffening, his blue eyes darkening with anger. I heard his chair slide back slightly as he stood.

"Well, that is good news, then, Monsieur. I am glad to know that Christine is at least safe from the perpetrator of the crime, although I can't imagine why anyone would have cause to attack her. It is very fortunate that you were able to track him down so easily and quickly was it not? I am, however, not convinced that it was simply a random occurrence and I intend to get to the bottom of it. I pray that God will have mercy on the soul of anyone who would dare to harm her, because I certainly will not."

I was suddenly very afraid for Raoul and I knew I had to do something quickly to divert Erik's attention, so I did the first thing that came into my head. I sat up. The punishment was swift and severe. I nearly shrieked in pain, but, fortunately, I was able to keep it to a quick gasp. Both men completely forgot each other's presence, then, as they both turned toward me. Erik was faster, and I felt his arms go around me, helping me to lie back down as he chastised me, all the while. When I was comfortable again, I turned to Raoul, or to the last place I had heard his voice emanating from, at least.

"It was very good of you to come and visit me, Raoul. I'm sure the flowers are beautiful. I regret that I am unable to see them."

"Are you truly well, Christine? Tell me now, if there is anything wrong, anything at all and I shall take you to my home where you will be attended by the best physician to be had. I promise you now all you need do is say the word and it will be done." Raoul's voice was close now, and he whispered fervently.

"I am fine here, Raoul. Thank you for your concern, but it is truly not necessary." I replied.

I heard his breath leave in a nearly inaudible sigh and he was up and halfway to the door when he hesitated. "I will see you again soon, then." And he was gone.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The weeks following the attack passed in a pain filled blur. During the day I was attended by either Madame Giry or Meg and every evening, soon after night fell, Erik would arrive and stay with me until the following morning. Raoul visited me twice more, each time imploring me to return with him to his home so that I could be attended by a "real physician". I knew that Raoul was extremely suspicious of Erik and his motivations and I understood that in Raoul's mind there must be some explanation as to why I would choose to stay under Erik's care. He simply could not accept that I truly cared for Erik, so he continued to try to extricate me from Erik's grasp. No doubt he imagined that once I was away from Erik's influence, I would see the light and realize that I couldn't possibly have feelings for him. It was very taxing to me and though I began to dread Raoul's visits, I knew that if I suddenly refused to see him, he would believe that to be further evidence of Erik exerting his control over me. So I continued to see him when he came and continued to refuse his offers of escape.

My recovery progressed well during those weeks and I was very pleased when my sight began to return. At first, I was only able to see a bit of gray and then slowly I began to be able to see movement and shadows, then blurry forms that more and more began to take the shape of recognizable things such as lamps, tables, vases, etc. It wasn't until Erik realized that I was slowly regaining my sight that he finally explained to me that I had sustained an injury to my head that had, apparently, caused my loss of vision, although he wasn't entirely sure why this should be. I was surprised when he directed my fingers to the scar on the back of my head, a little above the nape of my neck. It was a long, ragged scar which Erik informed me had required that he sew it up himself.

During those weeks, as I recovered physically, I found that my emotional recovery was not progressing as well. I had terrible nightmares from which I would awake drenched in sweat and shaking with fear. On those occasions, Erik would sit beside me on the narrow bed and, taking me in his arms, he would sing to me. It was the only thing that had the power to calm me. Eventually, my trembling would subside and I would be able to go back to sleep, but only as long as he lay there with me.

I soon discovered that I had developed new fears, one of which was being completely alone. Madame Giry and Meg went out one morning to the market while I slept. I had awakened and called for Meg only to realize that neither she nor Madame Giry were there. A terror such as I had never experienced took hold of me, then, and I was suddenly convinced that my attacker had returned and killed both Meg and Madame Giry and was coming for me. I rolled out of the bed, crying out from the searing pain in my ribs and in my head and groped around the room until I found the armoire. My sight had only just begun to return at that time, so I was not able to see clearly, but I had a good idea of where the door was and I began to shove the huge armoire over to the door, thinking to barricade myself in. I had only been able to push the large piece of furniture a few feet when I collapsed from the pain and panic. I had lain there, on the floor, covered in sweat and curled into a ball, crying hysterically. That was how Madame Giry had found me when she returned a half hour later. I had not been able to even sit up for nearly a week afterward, but since then I had not been left alone again.

I had also become unreasoningly afraid of complete darkness. I insisted that a lamp stay lit or a candle burning when it grew dark. Even before I had regained my sight, I required that there always be a light. Madame Giry had once asked me how I could know if there were a lamp lit when I was unable to see it for myself. I had been unable to explain, but it was almost as if I could feel the presence of the light as it chased away the shadows that my mind created. Erik seemed to understand more than anyone and never grew tired of my constant need to be reassured that there was indeed a light glowing somewhere in the room.

As my sight returned, with it came a need to see for myself how I looked. When I had finally regained enough of my vision to make out individual faces and see details, I asked Madame Giry for a mirror so that I might see for myself how I looked. Though she tried valiantly to keep it from me, I was finally able to win my way and she brought me a small mirror from the little dressing table in the room. Taking a deep breath, I held the mirror in front of my face and gasped at what I saw reflected there. The swelling had gone down, but the bruising remained over most of my face. I had a long cut over my left eye that had begun to heal. Both of my eyes were surrounded by black and purple bruises that had not yet begun to fade. My jaw was bruised on the left side as well, but that bruise had faded to a dark green. My lips were cracked and I could see where I had sustained cuts and scrapes around my lips and chin. My nose was probably the worst of it, in my opinion. I found that there was a bump near the bridge of my nose, just below the line of my eyes, which made it slightly crooked.

Closing my eyes, I had placed the mirror in my lap and leaned my head back onto the pillows. I let the truth of my situation sink in, then, setting the mirror aside, I asked Madame Giry to help me examine the rest of my body. She seemed resigned by that point and only made a minor protest before taking the mirror and replacing it on the dressing table. She then helped me to sit up and undress until I could see my abdomen. I had been wrapped in tight bandaging around my ribs, so I asked Madame to help me unwrap them so I could see, which she did, reluctantly. Once the bandaging had been removed, I was again dismayed to see the deep purplish red bruising spread throughout what seemed like my entire abdomen area. I supposed then that it had been a blessing that I had fallen unconscious when I had, for it appeared that my attacker had not stopped with one kick. I noted the many cuts and scraps along my legs and thighs, the result of the rocks I had attempted to crawl through, no doubt. I looked away, afraid I was going to be sick, then, and Madame Giry hurried to help me lie back on the bed. When I had recovered, she rewrapped the bandaging and redressed me, then sat beside me, waiting patiently for me to ask the questions that she had known would come eventually.

"Tell me," I said, simply, when I had settled back down onto the bed.

"Very well," she replied. "There is much that I cannot tell you, because I do not know, but perhaps Monsieur Erik will be inclined to tell you what he knows as well. The night you were attacked, I came downstairs after you had gone out. I had been unable to sleep and I came down, intending to have a cup of tea. When I came into the kitchen, I saw that the door was unlocked and thought I had simply forgotten to lock it before retiring, so I locked it. I feel so responsible for having locked you out there alone!"

"Madame Giry, there is no way you could have known! It is in no way your fault, what happened. If it is anyone's fault, it is my own for being foolish enough to be out there in the first place. I had been unable to sleep, so I decided that I would walk in the garden for a while. In truth, I was hoping that Erik would be coming to check on you that night as he had before."

"Do not blame yourself, ma cherie. You had no way of knowing what would happen." She leaned close to me and stroked my hair back from my forehead, then continued. "After I locked the door, I became concerned that I had left the other doors unlocked, so I went and checked the front door and found it was locked. I decided not to make tea after all and went back upstairs to my room to read until I was able to go back to sleep. I had not been reading long when I heard a sound from outside that sounded like a scream. I was about to decide it was only my imagination when Meg rushed into my room. She,too had heard a scream from outside her window. I knew, then, that something was terribly wrong. We checked your room first to make sure you were okay and found it empty, then we took the lantern outside into the garden, but you weren't there either. I just happened to notice the open gate as we turned to go back inside. Just then we heard another sound like a muffled cry and we rushed around to the front of the house and found a man standing over a motionless figure on the ground. He looked up when we came around the corner and Meg let out a scream that would have roused the dead. He must have known that it wouldn't be long before everyone within earshot would be coming to see what was happening, so he turned and fled. Meg and I rushed to your side, then, and you cannot know how relieved I was to see that you were still breathing. There was so much blood that as I approached, I was certain you must be dead. I am thankful every day that you were not." Madame grasped my hand, then and I squeezed it, unable to speak for the emotion that had overwhelmed me.

"We were unable to get a good look at the man who stood over you when we arrived, but we told the police as much as we could. He was found, dead, within a week, however, so the police have closed the case, labeling it an isolated incident in which circumstances placed you outside just as he happened to be passing by. They believe he saw you as you came around the corner and made the decision to attack you on the spur of the moment." She dropped her gaze from mine, then. "The officer said that had Meg and I not come along when we did, he would likely have raped you and killed you."

The unasked question that had lingered in the back of my mind, but I lacked the courage to ask, was answered in that one sentence and the relief that swept over me was unimaginable. I broke down, then and began to cry, deep wracking sobs that came from deep within me. I hadn't allowed myself to dwell on what may have happened once I lost consciousness, but it had always been there, the fear that I had not dared to express. Madame Giry must have understood some of what I was feeling, then, for she simply held my hand and stroked my head until I had cried out all of my pent up fears and emotions.

"I'm sorry," I said, when I was finally able to speak. "I was so afraid, but I didn't know how to ask..." I let the sentence go unfinished and Madame Giry squeezed my hand again, showing that she understood.

"Don't be sorry, child. There is no shame in tears."

"Thank you, Madame," I said, quietly. "For everything."

"Hush now," she said, gently. "You should rest. I will make you some tea to help you sleep."

Exhausted by the flood of tears, I only nodded. After drinking the tea Madame brought to me, I fell into a deep sleep and didn't awaken again until that evening, after Erik had come and Meg and Madame Giry had gone to bed. I opened my eyes and looked about the dim room, momentarily confused, then I remembered my conversation with Madame Giry and knew I had slept through dinner. It must be very late, I thought as I carefully pushed myself up to a sitting position. I grimaced against the now familiar bolt of pain that lanced through me as I settled back against the pillows. I had just realized Erik was not in the room with me when he emerged from the hallway bearing a tray filled with food. He settled the little tray on the bed in front of me, then took his usual position in the chair between the door and the bed, fixing his gaze upon me. I found that I was suddenly uncomfortable in his presence. I suppose that it was because I had finally seen what a mess my face was and I was feeling more than a little insecure. The irony of the my feelings was not lost on me as I pushed the food around on the plate, not eating.

"Christine, you must eat to regain your strength." Erik's voice startled me out of my thoughts.

"I'm not really hungry," I said, staring down at the food on my plate.

"Is something wrong?" Erik was immediately alarmed and I could hear the concern in his voice.

"No, nothing is wrong, I'm simply not very hungry tonight," I tried to sound normal, but I knew Erik would know something was bothering me.

He said nothing more, only continued to gaze at me, his eyes glittering in the dim lamplight.

"Why do you stare at me so?" I asked, suddenly, my insecurity transforming itself into irritation.

He studied me carefully for a long moment before replying. "You have seen your reflection." It was a statement rather than a question. I only nodded, not looking up.

"Christine, I am not concerned with how your face looks. There is no reason for you to be upset."

"I know that, but I still hate for you to see me like this." I said this quietly, still idly pushing food around on the plate, trying to avoid looking directly at him.

"Perhaps you'd care to borrow one of my masks, then?" My head flew up at this, and my eyes connected with his in disbelief, then I realized that he was joking and I was amazed at this rare display of humor. I began to laugh then, and I could have sworn he laughed with me, though I never actually heard him. I relaxed enough to eat the food he'd brought up to me.

After I had eaten, Erik took the empty tray away, then returned to his chair. We sat in silence for a few moments before I finally turned to look at him.

"I spoke with Madame Giry this morning and she told me what the police said about the man who attacked me." I waited for a response, but received none. "Was that really all it was? A terrible coincidence? I just happened to be out and he just happened to be passing by?"

I heard him sigh almost inaudibly. "It was not a coincidence."

I had learned that drawing information from him was like interrogating a stone and it never failed to frustrate me when he refused to elaborate on a deliberately cryptic response.

"Erik, I am quite well enough to hear the truth now. Please tell me what you know."

He was quiet for a long moment and I had begun to think that he wasn't going to answer me when he abruptly stood and turned away from me. "It is my fault," he said, but I could barely hear him.

"Your fault? Erik, you were not even there when it happened and it was certainly not your fault that I was out in the garden looking for you."

"Looking for me?" he whirled sharply and fixed me with a penetrating stare. "You came out alone in the middle of the night looking for me?"

"Yes, I was looking for you," I replied, irritably. "Don't try to change the subject. My reason for being out is neither here nor there."

"You foolish child! Do you see now that I can only cause you grief? You came out looking for me and see what happened!"

"Erik, it was my decision to go out into the garden. I couldn't sleep and wanted some fresh air. Yes, I had hoped that you would come like you did before, but that doesn't make you responsible for what happened! It was not you who caused the attack, it was my own fault for not simply knocking on the door until I awakened either Meg or Madame Giry. There is no way you could have known or prevented what happened, so you must not blame yourself."

"It is not only for that reason that I bear the blame. The man who attacked you was sending a message to me, Christine. He was an...emissary, let us say, of an old enemy of mine."

"But that is ridiculous! Who could possibly want to hurt me to send a message to you?"

"There are times when your naiveté is enchanting, but this is not one of those times, Christine. Do you imagine that I have lived my entire life under the opera house? I have lived in many places, my dear, and with a face like mine, it is inevitable that I would attract unfavorable attention, so I learned that staying in any one place for too long could have deadly consequences. Unfortunately, there was a place that I lingered far too long and it is from that time and place that this enemy has come. I should have realized this would happen and taken steps to prevent it, but I wanted to believe it was over. I have been a fool!"

His hands were clenched and I could see that though he had begun by speaking to me, when he finished, he was speaking mostly to himself.

"But it is over now, right? You...took care of the man who attacked me, so it is over now."

"No, Christine," he said, wearily. "It is not over. It will never be over until I do what I should have done years ago. You have recovered sufficiently now, I believe, that I can do just that."

"Do what? Erik you're not making sense." I said as a gnawing fear began to grow in the back of my mind.

"I must end this." He said, his eyes almost glowing in the candlelight. I shivered as a chill raced down my spine. "Unfortunately, that means that I will have to leave you for a time."

"No!" I protested and struggled to get up. "Erik, please, surely there is another way. You could go to the police and tell them..."

Erik moved to the bed and grasped me by my shoulders, gently, but firmly pushing me back down upon the bed. I protested again, but it was no use. I laid back against the pillows and glared at him in hurt silence as hot tears began to slide down my cheeks.

"I have already made arrangements. I was waiting only for you to be recovered enough that I could be assured of your safety while I was away. There is no other way. You know why I cannot simply go to the police. I have arranged for a trusted...associate of mine to look after you while I am away. You will not be alone, Christine. I will never leave you alone, my beloved. Never again."

"Take me with you, then. I am well enough to travel, now."

"It is too dangerous. You must stay here and regain your strength until I return." He straightened and crossed his arms over his thin chest, gazing down at me, his expression hidden behind that infernal mask.

"Dangerous? Erik, where is it that you intend to go? Can you not send someone else? This 'associate' of yours that you plan to leave here, why not send him? Surely he can take care of whatever it is you need taken care of."

"Christine, you do not know of what you speak. This is something that I must do myself. It is the only way that I can be assured that it is well and truly over. You must obey me in this. You will remain here and concentrate on your recovery." His voice had become stern and there was an undercurrent of anger there that warned me he had nearly reached the limits of his patience with me.

"I am afraid that you will not return," I whispered.

"You must not be afraid, Christine," His voice softened and he knelt beside my bed and took my small hand in his, then brought it to his lips and kissed my palm softly. "If there were any other way, I would not leave you. You must remember that. I will return when I have finished this. I don't know when that may be, but I will return. Do you trust your Angel, Christine?"

"I trust you."

"Good."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

In the week that followed Erik's announcement that he would be leaving, he introduced me to his "associate", Nadir. Monsieur Nadir seemed somewhat reluctant to play nursemaid to me and I was equally reluctant to have him there. Unfortunately, Erik was adamant that he watch over me and my protests served only to anger him, so I resigned myself to my fate.

Each evening, Monsieur Nadir would arrive promptly at 9pm and check in on me, then he would sit outside my door and read or write in a little journal for the duration of the night, checking in on me periodically and making sure a light was always burning. I realized how strange all of this would seem to an outsider, but they did not know Erik. He had fallen back into the role of my protector after the attack. It was eerily as if I had never left with Raoul. I wondered if Erik had simply discarded that particular memory and simply picked up where we left off. I admit that it made me uneasy to think so.

During the first week with Monsieur Nadir as my guardian, Erik was in and out, making preparations to to leave. When he was with me, he refused to hear any protests from me, fixing me with a cold stare until I subsided. I would then settle into a stony silence that I could not possibly maintain and Erik knew it. He filled the silence by singing to me or telling me stories of his travels and the beautiful things he had seen. Just listening to his voice had such a calming effect on me that I would be drawn in to the story and soon I would be asking questions about certain aspects of a story and before I realized it I had forgotten my anger with him. I had no idea, at the time, how many deadly situations he had extricated himself from simply by utilizing his voice in much the same way.

The evening before his departure, Erik came to stay with me. Monsieur Nadir did not appear that night so I guessed Erik had wanted to be alone with me. I had determined that I would not resort to tears and begging him to stay, but it seemed as if my will had deserted me as he took his seat by my bed.

"You don't have to do this, you know," I said more petulantly than I had intended.

He sat back in his chair and regarded me with his golden green eyes, saying nothing.

"Oh, don't sit there and glare at me like that! You know what I say is true. You and I can go away somewhere. Whoever is after you would never find you if you didn't wish them to."

"I did not wish them to find me here, yet they did. I have told you why I must go and I will not speak of it again, Christine. You said you trusted me, did you not? Then you must trust me now."

"I am sorry Erik, I am just so frightened for you. I am afraid that if you go, I shall never see you again."

"Perhaps that is not such a terrible thing as you imagine, never to see my monstrous face again." He said, his voice having taken on an odd quality that I could not identify.

"It would be even _more_ terrible than I can imagine. You are not monstrous to me. You are my Angel of music, my teacher and mentor. You said once that I could learn to love the man behind the mask and now that I have, you are leaving me."

"I am no angel, Christine. I am more devil than you could possibly know. It is only you that holds the demons within me at bay. For you to look upon me with anything less than loathing is the greatest gift I could ever hope for. I once thought that I could force you to love me. I thought through the force of my will I could make you want me, make you choose me, but then you kissed me. I never dared to ask for that; I knew I was unworthy of so beautiful a thing as a kiss from you, but you gave it to me freely. You looked upon me with kindness, sympathy and accepted me for who and what I am and kissed me of your own free will. I knew then I could never force love from you, so I set you free. I am not so foolish as to believe that you could truly love a beast such as me, but your acceptance and knowing that you care a little for me is more than enough. That alone would sustain me, Christine. Just that simple knowledge is enough to bring me back from the very grip of death to be by your side and protect you as long as you live on this earth."

As I listened to him, my tears began to fall once again. "Oh Erik, I do love you. You never have to settle for anything less than my whole heart again. If you will just come back to me, then you shall have all the kisses you could ever want!" I reached my hand out to him and he came and knelt by the bed. I unfastened his mask and let it fall to the floor between us, then I kissed his ugly, misshapen face. I kissed his forehead, each misaligned eye, then his hollow cheeks and finally his deformed lips. When I had finished, he drew back and looked at me and the gratitude and love I saw in his eyes could have brought me to my knees had I been standing.

I held out my arms to him and he hesitantly laid down on the bed beside me. I settled into the curve of his arm and rested my head on his thin chest and presently, he relaxed beside me. He had been in this position many times before when I had had nightmares and he had calmed me, but I had never asked him to lie beside me otherwise, so his tension was understandable. I lay there listening to the beat of his heart as my tears fell. I was determined that I would not sleep, that I would stay awake and savor every moment that I had him here with me, but eventually my eyes closed of their own accord and I fell asleep.

I awakened as the sun was rising and realized immediately that Erik was gone. Cursing myself for having fallen asleep I got up as quickly as my broken ribs would allow and went out into the hallway, but it was too late. I nearly ran into Monsieur Nadir as I flew out of the doorway. He grasped me by my arms to steady me as I lost my balance. "Forgive me, Monsieur, I did not know you were there. I was looking for Erik," I said, my eyes still searching frantically, though I knew it was futile.

"I am sorry, Mademoiselle, but Erik left some time ago. Is something wrong? Shall I call for Madame Giry?"

I stepped back and tried to smile reassuringly at him, but failed miserably. "No, no. Everything's fine, I just thought he might still be here. I wanted to say goodbye." My lip began to quiver, then and I knew I was going to cry, so I turned away. I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and I looked up to see Monsieur Nadir regarding me kindly, his normally inscrutable black eyes now softened with sympathy.

"You truly care for Monsieur Erik don't you?" His accent was thick, but I couldn't quite place what type of accent it was. I thought perhaps Middle Eastern since he dressed in the manner of other men I had seen from that part of the world, although I couldn't be certain. I had never been out of France before, so I had little experience of foreign dress and traditions other than what I had read about.

I nodded, unable to speak.

He regarded me for a long moment, then said, "I am glad to see that it is so."

"Have you known Erik for a very long time?" I asked, suddenly realizing an opportunity to learn more about Erik.

"Yes, for many years."

"How did you meet him?"

He smiled, then, and gestured for me to go back to the bed, then he sat down in the chair that Erik normally occupied. "I first met Monsieur Erik when the Shah sent me to capture him and extend an "invitation" for him to come and stay at the palace in Persia."

"Persia?" My eyes were wide as a child's at that point and I was eager to hear more.

"Yes, that is my homeland. I was a Daroga there, or what you would call an officer of the law here."

"How did the Shah hear of Erik and why would he want to capture him?" My curiosity was fairly brimming over as I sat there on the bed, listening to Monsieur Nadir.

"You have many questions, Mademoiselle. I am not certain that I should answer all of them, but I will tell you that the Shah wanted to use Erik for his unique architectural skills in the building of his new palace. It wasn't long before Erik was caught up in a web of court intrigue and deceit. He barely escaped with his life."

"What happened?" I asked, my eyes wide.

"I was commanded to arrest him and escort him to his death."

"But you refused?"

"Oh, no, Mademoiselle. One does not simply refuse the Shah's wishes. I arrested Erik immediately and we made our way to the prison. On the journey there, however, Erik was able to escape while I , alas, I was unable to stop him as I had been rendered unconscious."

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Monsieur. It makes no sense to me that he would escape from you, and now you are here and, apparently, consider him a friend." My brow had furrowed as I tried to untangle the strange relationship between Erik and Monsieur Nadir.

He chuckled good naturedly at my confusion. "You see, Mademoiselle, I had no intention of taking Erik to his death. I owed him far too much for that. I sent my men away and helped Erik to escape by making it look as if he had overpowered me and escaped on his own."

"I see," I said, finally understanding. "You must have cared very much for him to take such a risk."

"As I said, I owed a great debt to him. It was the least I could do. I learned soon after bringing Erik to my home that there is much more to him than his exterior."

"Yes, there is. I'm afraid, though, that he believes himself to be beyond redemption." I said, sadly.

"Well, he has never been loved by a beautiful young woman before, has he? You must show him that there is more to him than a terrible countenance. I have seen what he can be, Mademoiselle. I have seen his heart and we have yet to touch its depths. He simply needs to know that he is worthy of being loved."

"Please Monsieur," I said, placing my hand on his. " I would be honored if you would call me Christine. Anyone who loves Erik as you so obviously do, I consider a friend."

He covered my hand with his and leaned forward, his eyes grave, yet kind. "The honor would be mine alone, Christine. If we are to be friends, then, you must call me Nadir."

"Nadir, then." I said, smiling at him. He gave my hand one final pat, then released it and stood.

"I'm afraid it is time for me to go. I have errands to run, though now that I am not busy keeping tabs on Erik, I don't know what I shall do with the rest of my day." His black eyes twinkled when he spoke and my heart was warmed by how much he seemed to care for Erik. I looked forward to his return that evening so that I could find out more about Erik's past. He bid me good day and soon after, Madame Giry entered carrying a tray with filled with food for my breakfast. I decided it was time everyone stopped treating me like an invalid, so I insisted on having my breakfast in the kitchen with everyone else. Madame argued with me, but I won that round fairly easily as she could not very well wrestle me back into the bed.

I slowly and painstakingly washed and got dressed, then made my way to the little kitchen where Madame Giry had laid out a lovely breakfast. Meg was already seated and seemed happy to see me. I was just happy to be out of that room. I felt as if I had been imprisoned there for a lifetime and it was good to be up and walking about. It was very painful at first, but the more I moved about, the easier it became.

We ate and I helped clean up as much as I was able, then retired to the little drawing room to read for a while. I was startled from my book by a knock on the door some time later. Madame Giry answered, and I heard Raoul's voice. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my face as he entered the room.

Raoul seemed very pleased that I was sitting up and dressed this morning. We exchanged pleasantries and then an awkward silence descended upon us. I fidgeted in the seat, idly running my finger up and down the outer pages of the book in my lap. Finally, Raoul broke the silence. "How are you, really, Christine?" He asked me, leaning in toward me as if inviting confidence.

"Why, I'm fine, Raoul. Why do you ask?" I said, knowing exactly what he was getting at, but wanting to make him say it anyway.

"I worry about you. Especially since _he_ has suddenly come back into your life. I'm afraid he is, once again, trying to manipulate you and worse, you're falling under his spell again!"

"Oh Raoul, I know that you worry about me, but it truly is not necessary. Erik would never attempt to imprison me again. I am free to come and go as I please. If I had chosen to leave with you when you first asked me, he would not have attempted to stop me. You must understand, Raoul. I don't want to hurt you, but you should know, I am here with Erik because I _want_ to be and for no other reason."

"I don't understand you at all, Christine," Raoul burst out. "I have gone over all this again and again in my head and I still can come up with no explanation for your behavior! That man, that _monster_ kidnapped you, lied to you, tried to kill me and everyone else in the opera house that night. He has committed heinous crimes and we only know about _some_ of them. You, of all people, know what he is capable of in his murderous rages and here you sit, telling me that you are here because you _want_ to be. I even came in upon you telling him that you love him, no less! How could you, Christine? How could you think that you love him? I have done nothing to hurt you, given you my complete and utter respect and loved you with all my heart and you turn away from me saying you don't love me the way I want. How can this have come to pass? I don't understand."

Raoul began his speech seated, but by the time he finished, he was standing and pacing back and forth in the small room, his anger and hurt palpable in the air between us. I felt terrible for him and knew that his confusion was completely valid. Were I in his place, I'm certain I would feel the same way.

"Oh Raoul, I have told you that I never meant to hurt you. I cannot explain to you why I feel the way I do for I don't understand it myself. The truth remains, though, that I love him. There is more to him than his deformities. You don't know him like I do. You call him a monster and, I suppose, in your mind, he is, but in truth, he is just like you and me. We don't know all that he has had to endure because of his awful face. Perhaps you would do the same things if you had been the one born with that face, rejected by even your own mother!"

"I am not like him, Christine and I never could be! His deformities are in his twisted soul more than in his physical appearance. Having an ugly face doesn't force one to commit murder."

"You have no idea what you are speaking of, Raoul. You have no way of knowing what it is like to go through life reviled as a monster, with no one ever showing you even an ounce of kindness or compassion. You don't know what it has been like for him and you have no right to judge him in this manner!" I was getting angrier with every word and was nearly screaming by the time I finished the last sentence. I had never been angry with Raoul before and it was a terrible feeling. "If you wish to remain my friend, you will cease this attack on him right now and never speak of him in this manner again."

Raoul stared at me, his fists clenched at his sides, then with a visible effort, he relaxed his hands and his facial features. "You are right, Christine. I will not lose you as a friend over this. For we are still friends, aren't we?"

Relief washed over me in a flood and I reached out to him. He took my hand and came to sit beside me on the sofa. "Yes, we are," I said, smiling slightly at him. "I do want us to be friends."

"Then, that is what we shall be." Raoul smiled at me, but his eyes were still sad. "I didn't intend to discuss _hi..._I mean, Erik, anyway. I actually came to talk to you about the house and your proposition that you posed to me when you came to visit me."

"Oh, I had forgotten about all that!" I exclaimed. "With all that has happened since then, I haven't given it a thought."

"Well, with all you have been through these past weeks, that's certainly understandable. But, as to the house, I have decided that I will accept your proposal that you purchase the house from me, but with certain conditions. I have realized that you will let the house rot before you accept it from me for nothing, so I have come up with these conditions so that we may reach an acceptable compromise."

I frowned at him. "Conditions?"

"Yes, conditions. First, you will only pay half of what the house is worth."

"Absolutely not." I said and started to rise, when he stopped me.

"You haven't heard my second condition yet."

"When the first condition is unacceptable, I don't see the point." I said, coolly.

"My second condition is that you only pay me once you have established your school and it is making a profit."

"Raoul, I appreciate your attempt at a compromise, but surely you see that it would be wrong of me to pay you only half of what the house is worth when you could sell it to any other buyer and receive the full worth of the house."

"Ah, but you are not any other buyer, Christine."

"That is exactly why I must pay the full asking price for the house."

It was Raoul's turn to frown. " I don't remember you being so stubborn before."

I regarded him, silently.

"Fine!" He ran a hand through his blonde hair in frustration. "You can pay the full asking price for the house, but you will not pay me so much as a single franc until you can afford it and I want your word on that, Christine."

"Then I give you my word that I shall not attempt to pay you until I can afford to do so." I said solemnly.

"Then we are agreed?"

"Agreed." I said and extended my hand. Raoul clasped my hand in his and shook it. I was suddenly so excited that I wanted to dance about the room, but wisely settled for beaming at nothing in particular. Raoul and I talked a little longer, then he took his leave and I excitedly told Meg and Madame Giry about my deal with Raoul. We sat around the drawing room and planned and schemed until I grew tired and decided to go to my room and nap for a while. I was soon asleep and dreaming of beautiful little house that now belonged to me.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The weeks passed and I recovered remarkably well, but, though I questioned Nadir daily, there was no word from Erik. Each time I asked him, I grew more and more frightened for Erik's safety. Since there was nothing I could do for him then, I tried to find things to do to take my mind off him. As soon as I was well enough to move about, I began preparing for my role as a vocal teacher. I had not really sang since I left the opera house, so to say I was rusty was a gross understatement. I began practicing again every day, which often left me breathless from my still healing injuries, but I was determined to get back to where I had been at the time of my departure from the opera.

Not only did I begin daily practice routines, but I had begun inquiring regarding interest in a school for girls that would teach them vocal techniques, acting and dancing lessons and found that there was quite a bit of interest. I sent out letters to the families that I had learned lived near my little village of Boscherville informing them that I was a vocal teacher from Paris and would soon be relocating to the village where I would be offering vocal lessons to young ladies. I was not certain how much to ask for my services, but Madame Giry had suggested that often titled families valued your services by how easily others could afford them. If I were affordable enough that less wealthy families could afford to hire me, they may assume that my services were on equal footing with the amount I charged for them. This concept was bizarre to me, but it made a certain kind of sense. If they felt that my services were so exorbitant that only the elite could afford them, then perhaps that would lend weight to the perceived value of said services. After all, if every Tom, Dick and Harry could hire me, then what I offered couldn't very well be worth much, right?

I was quite nervous about implementing this strategy when I sent the letters out, but before two weeks had passed I had an invitation to visit the country home of the De Villiers family to discuss my services further. Then I received another invitation, then another and the next thing I knew, I was looking at spending a few weeks in the country at the estates of various wealthy and titled families. Meg squealed with delight as I opened each invitation and I admit, I was nearly beside myself. I had never been a very outgoing person and, quite honestly, the thought of going to visit these wealthy families frightened me more than I admitted, even to myself, but I was determined that I should go. I knew I could never realize my dreams if I were too afraid to even try.

During these weeks, Nadir had become my constant companion. Erik had entrusted my safety to him and he, apparently, took his position very seriously. I was never out of his sight when I went out during the day and in the evenings, he and I would play chess in the drawing room, laughing and talking like old friends. Meg and Madame Giry often joined us in the evenings with Madame Giry even inviting Nadir to dinner on several occasions. I learned many things about Erik during this time, but never what I truly wanted to learn. I was terribly curious as to what this debt that he owed to Erik could have been, but I knew better than to ask. I figured that Nadir would tell me when he felt comfortable enough to do so. I got the feeling that there were many painful memories in Nadir's past and Erik had something to do with at least some of them.

Had I not been so worried about Erik during this time, those weeks would have been the happiest I believe I had ever spent. Even Raoul seemed to have come to his senses and no longer begged me to leave Madame Giry's. I suppose that could have been attributed to the fact that Erik no longer seemed to be around, but at the time, that didn't occur to me. I was simply grateful to have him acting like he had when we had been friends as children. We were able to laugh together and I found that I was enjoying his company once again. Everything seemed to be falling into place for me, but it was a hollow triumph when I did not have Erik here to share it with. When I asked Nadir about Erik, he assured me that Erik was perfectly capable of accomplishing what he set out to do, but that it could take a very long time to do it. How long, I had wanted to know. Weeks or even months, he had replied. These things take time and delicacy. I was not happy, but I had to satisfy myself with Nadir's answers. He, himself, did not seem to be overly concerned with Erik's fate, so I told myself that I should try not to worry so much.

So, I threw myself into my preparations and was soon ensconced in my little house in Boscherville. Meg had come with me and was staying in the spare bedroom. Madame Giry had, very kindly, given me a few pieces of furniture with which to get started. I was very grateful to her for that. Nadir, for his part, came with me to Boscherville and took a room at the inn, though I protested greatly that he should stay at the house with me. He would not hear of it, however. He said it was not proper for a man old enough to be my father to say with two beautiful young ladies unchaperoned. He had wiggled his eyebrows wickedly when he said this causing Meg and me to collapse into fits of giggles. After only a week at the inn, Nadir had found a little place to rent closer to the center of town, and I was much relieved when he moved out of the inn and into his rooms above the butcher's shop.

I managed my visits with the De Villiers and the other wealthy families in the area remarkably well considering how nervous and frightened I was. Meg accompanied me as my companion and soon I had three students lined up to begin teaching in the fall. One student, in particular, was very promising and I believed I could work very well with her. I began to look forward to my first lessons.

I had been living in my little house for nearly two months and the weather had begun to grow cooler when I remembered the trunk in the attic. It was late afternoon and the hottest part of the day had passed when I climbed the narrow stairs to the attic. Meg was downstairs in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Nadir was coming over and I had invited Mademoiselle Perrault as well. I had run into her as I came back from town, so I invited her to join us for dinner that evening.

It was still hot in the attic and I knew I shouldn't stay long as I didn't want to get sweaty and dirty right before our dinner guests arrived, so I decided I would take a quick look and then, head back downstairs to get ready for dinner. The trunk was where I had left it, right in front of the window. I lifted the lid and peered inside, seeing the architectural books again. I thought, with a pang, that Erik would likely enjoy those. I quickly set them out, intending to ask Nadir to take them downstairs so that I could have them in the bookcase for Erik to peruse when he came to visit. I found the little journal and the marriage certificate, but other than that, there was little of interest in the trunk. I shuffled the papers around a little, and found the piece of mirror that I had cut my hand upon the last time I had been up here. Shaking my head, I placed it back in the trunk along with the papers I had removed and closed the lid.

Disappointed that there was no more information forthcoming on the mysterious Madeleine, I turned and was walking back to the stairs when something caught my eye. On the floor, directly behind where the trunk had been before I moved it under the window, it looked as if something small had fallen out of the trunk and now lay on the floor. I walked over to it and discovered it was only a loose floorboard and reached down to put it back in its place when I saw that something had been placed in the narrow niche underneath the loose board. I pulled the board the rest of the way out, then reached into the little niche and pulled out a small scrap of cloth. Frowning, I held the cloth up to examine it. When I saw what it was I very nearly collapsed onto the floor. As it was, I fell upon my knees with a sharp gasp. It could not be! It was simply not possible! I examined the cloth again and again, unable now to see it for anything other than what it actually was. A tiny child-sized mask.

I don't know how long I sat there in the attic, staring at the mask when I heard Nadir's voice behind me. "Christine?" he said softly as he stepped into the attic.

I looked up at him with tears running down my face and wordlessly handed him the little cloth mask I had been clutching tightly. He frowned as he looked at it, then back at me, not quite sure of the connection.

"I found it there, under the floorboard. This was _his_ house, Nadir. Madeleine was _his_ mother. I read her journal. I wondered why she never wrote again after the birth of her baby and now I know. I assumed her child had died and I felt so badly for her. It is impossible I know, but , well, here we are, aren't we?"

"Christine, come downstairs with me before you have a heatstroke up here. We'll sort this all out downstairs, okay?" His tone was soothing, as if he were speaking to a small child and I supposed he couldn't be faulted for that. I must have appeared quite a sight, sitting on the floor crying over a scrap of cloth. I allowed him to help me up and we descended the narrow stairs. Nadir closed the attic door behind us, then returned to me and I took his arm as we walked down second flight of stairs to the living room together. I saw that Mademoiselle Perrault had arrived and I could not help the sharp stab of resentment I felt toward her, knowing she had been Madeleine's friend. Knowing how Erik's mother had treated him, I didn't know how one could be friends with such a person.

"Oh, my dear, whatever is the matter?" Mademoiselle Perrault exclaimed when she saw my tear-streaked face. Meg whirled around, then, and caught sight of me as Nadir led me to the sofa. Her face filled with concern as she rushed over to my side. I put my arms around her and hugged her tightly, crying into her shoulder while she stroked my hair soothingly. I could sense their confused glances at each other shooting around the small room, so I tried to master my emotions enough to try to explain what I had stumbled across.

"I was in the attic looking through the old trunk when I discovered a loose floorboard. When I went to replace the board, I found a scrap of cloth hidden underneath." I watched Mademoiselle Perrault's face carefully when I said this and I found a certain satisfaction in watching it turn a shade paler. "As it turns out, it was not a scrap of cloth at all, but a mask." I looked her directly in the eyes then. "_Erik's mask_."

Mademoiselle Perrault's hand went to her throat and she collapsed into the chair she had been standing by. "How could you know that?" She asked, her voice incredulous.

"It _is_ Erik's mask, then?" I nearly shrieked. "You! How could you have been friends with that horrible woman who gave birth to him? The scars he wears on his face are _nothing_ compared to the scars he bears on his soul because of what she did to him! I felt so badly for her when I first heard of her, but now I know what she truly was. There was a monster born in Erik's family, but the monster's name was Madeleine, not Erik!" I had grown hysterical by this point and Nadir grasped my arms and pulled me bodily from the couch, then turned me around and marched me back up the stairs to my room before I could protest. He slammed the door behind him, and glared at me while blocking the door. "Let me out of here, Nadir. I have not finished speaking with Mademoiselle Perrault."

"After all your theatrics I daresay she won't be spending any more time here than it takes her to find her way to the front door."

"Good!" I shouted at him.

"Good, you say? How is this good? You have tried and condemned Mademoiselle Perrault in your heart without ever asking her side of the story. This is not like you, Christine. I have never seen you act like this."

I glared at him for a long moment, then stomped over to the bed and flung myself down on it. "What side could she possibly have? She was friends with that fiend who bore Erik, then denied him the very thing that every person on this earth is entitled to. A mother's love."

"You don't know what the circumstances were, Christine. You have judged her guilty without giving her a chance. I know that you care deeply for Erik, but that is no excuse for the way you have treated Mademoiselle Perrault. You will apologize to her before this evening is over."

"I will not!" I cried

Nadir said nothing, only stood there regarding me with that look of utter disappointment in his eyes.

"You can stare at me that way all you like, but I won't apologize to her. She doesn't deserve an apology."

Nadir's eyebrows rose slightly.

"You can't force me to apologize, you know." I said, sullenly. I was met with more silence.

"Nadir, you can't keep me here in this room forever! Meg made dinner for us all and it is getting cold." Silence.

"Oh all right. I will apologize. But not because I think she deserves it."

Without a word, Nadir opened the bedroom door and stepped back, indicating that I should precede him out the door. As I walked past him, he grasped my arm in what could only be described as a viselike grip and descended the stairs with me.

I was surprised to find that Mademoiselle Perrault was still here and sitting in the chair she had nearly fallen into when I began my tirade. She looked up when I entered the room and I could see that her face was tear streaked. I began to feel a small amount of pity for her.

"Mademoiselle Perrault, I would like to apologize for my behavior just now. You see, I never knew where Erik lived when he was a child. I only knew that he had a horrible, cruel mother..." Nadir elbowed me hard in the ribs. "I was shocked to discover that this is the house he was born in and that Madeleine was the mother he told me of. I am sorry that I have accused you of having any part in how Erik was treated."

Mademoiselle Perrault looked at me, her plain face a mask of misery,(no pun intended). "I do not blame you for your reaction, Mademoiselle Daae. Madeleine treated that boy abominably and I told her so. Only by the time she realized what harm she had caused, he had run away."

I sank down onto the sofa and Nadir seemed to relax slightly, apparently reassured that I was not going to go into another tirade against Mademoiselle Perrault. "Will you tell me about them, Madeleine and Erik?"

She regarded me, her eyes terribly sad and suddenly old. "I will tell you what I can, Mademoiselle if you will only tell me how you know Erik."

"Perhaps we can discuss this over dinner?" Meg interjected in a pleading tone.

"Dinner? Oh my! I completely forgot about dinner! Oh, Meg, please forgive me! You worked so hard to cook a nice meal for us all and I have gone and ruined it all! Yes, please, let's have dinner. I am truly sorry for my outburst earlier and hope that you will please stay, Mademoiselle Perrault, although I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to step foot into this house again." By this time, I was thoroughly shamed by my uncharacteristic behavior.

"Of course I forgive you, Mademoiselle Daae, and please call me Marie. It seems ridiculous to stand on formality at this point, no? I would be honored to stay for dinner." Her composure had returned and I sincerely wished for a rock that I could crawl under and hide.

It was as if we had reached a tacit agreement not to discuss the topic of Madeleine and Erik during dinner, so we talked of the weather, the town, the people I had met so far; anything other than what we all wanted to discuss. I was eager to learn as much as I could about Erik's childhood, but I instinctively dreaded having the knowledge as well. I couldn't help but wonder if it even mattered now that Erik had set out for parts unknown and I had no idea when or even if he would ever return. I fiercely reprimanded myself for even having such thoughts. I could not allow my mind to dwell on that possibility. Of course Erik would return. There was too much left unsaid and undone between us. He had to come back. I fervently hoped that it would be so.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N : As I'm sure you have all noticed, I am relying heavily on Kay for much of this story. I have assumed that most readers will have a basic knowledge of Kay's Phantom and that the references are understood. I had thought about including a brief summary as an author's note, but decided that I would just allow Marie Perrault to summarize for me. For those of you who are familiar with Kay's novel, this is all going to be a bit redundant, but I will try to keep it as brief as I can without leaving out anything really important. **

**I'd also like to take a moment to thank all of the readers not only for reading, but for taking the time to review. I appreciate the comments very much. You give me the desire to keep going. It's especially gratifying to me because this is my first fan fiction ever, so I am eternally grateful to you all for taking the time to read and review. I hope you continue to enjoy this story. Please let me know more of what you think and what you might like to see, or any constructive criticism. **

Chapter 15

After dinner that evening, Meg, Nadir and Marie all retired to the living room and I prepared some hot tea for us all before joining them. When we had all had some tea and relaxed, I related to Marie that I had met Erik at the opera house where he was residing. The version of events I gave her was truthful, but I chose not to reveal everything to her at once. It was true that I was ashamed of my earlier accusation toward her, but I still did not know exactly what role she had played in Erik's childhood and until I was assured that she had not taken part in inflicting suffering on him, I would not trust her completely. I told her of the opera house, but not how Erik had imprisoned me and tried to force me to become his wife. I simply explained that I had escaped the fire with Raoul, but realized that I truly loved Erik after much soul searching. As I said, it was the truth, if, perhaps a watered down version of it.

Of the events of the past few months, I told her very little, explaining only that Erik had been taken away on personal business, but that I was expecting him to return in the near future. I explained that I was in the process of purchasing this home from Raoul, and that Erik did not yet know that the house I was now living in was the house he had lived in with his mother. Of course, Marie knew that I had only just found this out myself, so how could he possibly know since he was away?

As I related my story to her, Marie seemed to grow more and more incredulous. She seemed awed and wept openly as I told her how I had come to realize that I loved Erik rather than the Vicomte De Chagny. When I had finished my story, she regarded me with tears spilling down her withered cheeks, then she rose and, crossing the room to me, took both my hands in hers. Then she kissed me on both cheeks. "God bless you, child, may He bless you for the love you have shown to Madeleine's child. God knows Madeleine never had the courage to love him so He sent you." Her hands tightened on mine momentarily, then she went back and sat down in her chair as I stared at her in wonder.

We waited in silence for Marie to compose herself. When she finally began her tale, we listened in rapt attention and none of us were left untouched by what she had to say.

"Madeleine was a beautiful and spoiled young woman who had never known suffering or want in her life. Her father doted on her, ensuring she had all she could ever ask for. She had dreams of becoming a prima donna on the stage in the Parisian opera house, but when she met Charles she happily abandoned those dreams to marry him. She was seventeen when they married.

She and Charles were on their honeymoon in London when she learned her parents had contracted cholera. They returned immediately, but it was too late. Her parents died very soon after contracting the disease and by that time Madeleine had realized that she and Charles were expecting a child. During the time shortly after her parent's deaths, I invited Madeleine and Charles here to visit with me and my parents. I knew she was taking it very hard and I thought perhaps a change of scenery would be good for her.

During her visit here, she found this house and fell in love with it instantly. She insisted that Charles buy it for her and he, never able to deny her anything, did as she asked. She and Charles were very happy for a time here, but shortly before the birth of their child, Charles was killed in an accident. He was a master mason and had been killed by a piece of falling masonry on one of his job sites in Rouen. Madeleine was nearly inconsolable. I tried to help her all I could but her grief was more than I could understand at the time. I fear I only frustrated her most of the time. In Madeleine's eyes, the only thing she had left was the child she carried. I believe that she took all of her grief and poured it into her hopes and dreams for her son whom she often said was all of Charles she had left.

You can imagine what it must have been like for her when Erik was born. She was horrified by his appearance as were the midwife and the housemaid who had been attending Madeleine. The midwife sent for the priest, believing the child would surely die soon. The housemaid fled to fetch the priest and never stepped foot in Madeleine's house again, not even to retrieve her personal belongings. Father Mansart arrived and, though he, too, was horrified by the child's appearance, he encouraged Madeleine to care for this child as she would any other. He agreed with the midwife's assessment that the child would likely die in the night, so he baptized him immediately. Madeleine refused even to give the child a name, asking Father Mansart to name the child after himself, which he did. That very night Madeleine, realizing Erik was not going to die, set about making him his first piece of clothing; a mask.

As Erik grew, Madeleine continued to be indifferent to him. He was left mostly on his own as Madeleine would not touch him unless she absolutely had to. He was never without the little mask she had fashioned for him. We knew early on that Erik was gifted, however. I was the first to notice it, as Madeleine rarely paid the child any heed at all. He had begun to create a recognizable melody from some little bells I had hung above his crib. I was astounded as he was barely six months of age at that time.

To say that Erik was precocious would be an understatement. It wasn't long before Madeleine had no choice but to recognize that her child, however deformed, was unimaginably gifted. Over his early childhood years he showed particular interest in music and architecture which was not surprising considering his parentage. Erik, however, surpassed anyone's wildest dreams and we soon realized that he was more than gifted, he was a genius, a prodigy. It wasn't long before he also developed an intense interest in magic and sleight of hand. He used to like to tell his mother he could make the house disappear if he wanted. As odd as it sounded coming from a boy of not more than six years of age, Madeleine and I believed him.

During his early childhood, Father Mansart cautioned Madeleine not to take him out into the village for fear of what the people would do to him. Despite all precaution, however, word spread quickly that Madeleine had given birth to some sort of monster and from the time of his birth, she was ostracized, unwelcome even at church. She defiantly continued to go for a while, until Erik made his ominous claim about making the house disappear. Madeleine feared he would do just that, so she chose to stay home and Father Mansart came each Sunday to have Mass with Erik and Madeleine. The priest immediately recognized the child's genius and insisted that Madeleine have him educated by the finest architects that France had to offer. She agreed to do this; she would do most anything to keep him out of mischief and out of her sight.

Erik was five when he first refused to wear the mask. It was his birthday and I had insisted that Madeleine have a birthday dinner for him. The tension in the house was so thick I could have cut a slice of it with a knife when I arrived. I did not find out till some time later what had caused it, but at the time that I arrived, Madeleine had dinner prepared and Erik had not come down to eat yet. We both sat and waited for him, and presently he arrived, but without his mask. Madeleine was immediately enraged to find him so, but he stubbornly refused to put it back on despite her threatened beatings. She did something then that I fear changed Erik forever. She dragged him upstairs to her room where she kept the only mirror in the house and forced him to look into it. You must understand that Erik had never seen his reflection before. Though I don't know for certain, I imagine that he assumed he looked the same as everyone else. I know it would have occurred to him that it was strange that he could not go out and that he had to cover his face with a mask, but I think he simply accepted those things because they had always been. I suppose in the same way children accept that God is real because their parents tell them so and the priest as well. To think otherwise often doesn't occur to them until they are much older. At any rate, he had never openly questioned why he had to wear the mask before. When Madeleine forced him to look upon his reflection Erik screamed. I shall never forget that agonized scream as long as I shall live. He threw himself at the mirror and it shattered, but he just kept striking at it until his hands and arms were completely bloody. I was more angry at Madeleine than I had ever been. I shouted at her that she should hang for what she had done to him, that she should be burned and I am ashamed to say that I struck her in my anger. I suppose I had finally reached the end of my patience with her continued refusal to think of herself as anything other than the victim of a cruel fate. I sent her downstairs for bandaging while I attempted to calm Erik. You must remember that however gifted he may be,Erik was still only five and his interpretation of the face in the mirror, at least then, was that it was a horrible monster that his mother had called forth in the mirror to come and punish him for his bad behavior. We never again saw him without his mask but the damage had been done. Now he had another obsession to add to his collection. He developed a morbid fascination for mirrors.

His life continued in much the same way until he was about nine years old. Madeleine had begun going back to church and she met a young doctor there one Sunday. He was attracted to Madeleine at once, but when he learned about Erik he was insatiably curious about the boy and wanted to study him. Madeleine refused to allow this and I was grateful for that small mercy. She continued to see the doctor, but she hid it from Erik. When he found out, he was insanely jealous and angry, but Madeleine refused to stop seeing the doctor.

The night Erik ran away, he had overheard his mother and the young doctor discussing moving to Paris and placing Erik in an asylum. What Erik did not hear, however, was his mother's refusal. Madeleine had finally come to see that she loved Erik, and so she broke off her relationship with the doctor and determined that she would try to make things right with her son. She believed Erik was sleeping, so she went to bed as well. Erik left that very night, believing his mother planned to put him in an asylum and move to Paris with the doctor.

The years following Erik's departure were very hard on Madeleine. She desperately searched for him, but we knew it was pointless. He had well and truly disappeared into thin air. From that day on, her health declined alarmingly. She always hoped that Erik would return someday, but she died without ever getting the chance to tell him she was sorry."

When Marie had finished her story, we sat there in silence, our tears drying upon our cheeks, for there was not a one there who was not moved by what we had just heard. For my part, I was unable to speak for the emotions that swirled within me. Presently I was able to compose myself and I asked Marie hesitantly, "You mentioned that on the evening of Erik's birthday party something had happened to cause tension between him and his mother and that you only learned later what that was. May I ask what had happened?"

"Oh, yes, as I said the tension was nearly unbearable when I arrived and Madeleine had, very obviously, been weeping. With all that happened that evening, I quite forgot about it and it wasn't until years later, after Erik had gone that Madeleine told me what had happened. You see, I had insisted that Madeleine do something special for Erik's birthday. When Erik learned that we were having a little dinner party for him, and that people generally get presents for their birthday, his mind took hold of that concept and he thought about it very seriously, then came to his mother and asked her if he may have a birthday present. She didn't realize what was in his mind and told him of course he could have a present and asked him what he would like. He told her, in a whisper, that he should like to have two of them; one for now and one to save for later. Madeleine, true to form, grew irritated that he did not simply tell her what he wanted and snapped at him to cease his foolishness and tell her what he wanted. What he asked for then, nearly sent Madeleine into hysteria. It was very simple really. All he wanted was a kiss."

I nearly fainted dead away when I heard those words. I remembered my odd dream of Erik asking me for a kiss for his birthday and my response. How could I possibly have dreamed that? Nadir must have noticed the color drain from my face for he grasped my hand and asked me if I were okay. I nodded, still unable to speak. We talked long into the night, each of us moved by what we had heard. Meg and I insisted that Marie stay with us that evening, as it had grown too late for her to walk home alone. I could see that telling her tale had fatigued her, so I decided that we should all retire and we could talk more in the morning.

As I lay on my bed that night, in the same room in which Madeleine had lain, I cried once more for Erik and all the ugly terrible things he had had to endure in his life. I cried, too, for Madeleine, who had realized too late that she could find it in her heart to love her son. I imagined Erik as he lay there listening to his mother and the doctor talk of placing him in an asylum. How that thought must have terrified him! My heart ached for him and I longed to have him there with me so that I could wrap my arms around him. Not that he would have allowed any such thing. His damnable pride would allow him to accept pity from no one, not even me.

The following days I spent working on my vocals since it was less than a month now till I would begin lessons with my first students. I sought out Marie often in the afternoons and we talked about many things, but mostly about Erik. She told me how Erik had come back only to learn his mother had died. I could imagine how shocked he must have been to learn that Madeleine had never moved to Paris with the young doctor and had, in fact, never seen the doctor again. It was, apparently, after his mother's death, that Erik had come to Paris and began work on the opera house.

I thought much about Erik during that time. I continued to ask Nadir regularly, but received the same response. He had heard nothing from Erik. I struggled to fill the void his continued absence had wrought in my life and heart. I began to believe perhaps the worst had come to pass and I may never see Erik again. Even as the thought began to form in my mind, however, I would thrust it aside with an effort. He promised me he would return, after all. He had always kept his promises to me before and this would be no different.

The days passed quickly once I began the vocal lessons and soon I had fallen into a routine. Three days a week I gave vocal lessons to three young ladies at the De Villiers estate. This continued throughout the fall and winter and soon spring was once again in the air. Claudia De Villiers was one of my students and showed the most promise of the three. She had a strong clear voice and she could easily have pursued a career on the stage had her circumstances been different. As it was, she confided to me, she was soon to be betrothed to a man she had never met. I listened sympathetically as she told me how her family had long been in negotiations with his and they had finally reached an agreement which would be solidified in an official betrothal which would take place within a month. Her family were planning a betrothal party and Claudia confided that she would be singing because she had learned her soon-to-be-betrothed was a fan of the opera and she wanted to impress him with her ability to sing. I thought this was a wonderful idea since Claudia had such a beautiful voice and we began working on a piece that would show off her newly acquired vocal skills.

I began to look forward to the lessons each week. Claudia was a very vivacious and beautiful young girl and I truly came to think of her more as a friend than a student, though she was several years younger than me. The two other young ladies I taught were pleasant and had passable voices, but they were aware of their station in relation to mine in a way that Claudia never seemed to be. I liked the girls and I am certain they liked me as well, but it was Claudia that I became close to. As her betrothal drew nearer, she was by turns nervous and excited, and our lessons grew longer as it became increasingly difficult for her to focus. By the time the guests began arriving, I decided that there was no point in continuing our lessons as she had learned all she needed from me. As we finished our lesson the day of the party, I told her as much.

"Oh, Christine! You cannot mean to forsake me now! How could you even think such a thing and at a time like this!" Claudia's lovely blue eyes actually began to tear up and I thought again what a great actress and singer she would have been. She definitely had a theatrical bent and I could easily picture her in the role of prima donna.

"You know as well as I do that there is nothing further that I can teach you, Claudia. If I continue your lessons at this point, your parents would be paying me for little more than putting up with your dramatic imaginings about your future husband." She regarded me, a pained expression upon her lovely face, then launched a pillow at me. I laughed at her antics and she laughed with me, unable to pout for any length of time with me.

"I have enjoyed our lessons very much and I really am sorry to discontinue them, but after tonight you will be betrothed and your wedding planning will take up so much of your time you wouldn't have time for lessons anyway. You have a beautiful voice, Claudia. I only helped you to shape what you already had. You have nothing to worry about. When you sing tonight your young man will fall hopelessly in love with you and he will realize how truly fortunate he is to be marrying such a talented and beautiful young lady."

"Do you really think so? I have heard that he is only agreeing to marry me because his father has threatened to disown him if he doesn't settle down and make a good alliance."

"Of course I think so! He may not be happy about the circumstances right now, but I am certain that he will soon realize what a treasure he has stumbled upon. And if he doesn't, then he is unworthy of your concern, my dear."

She sighed and looked away, her features now registering sadness that I knew to be genuine. "But what if he doesn't? What if he never comes to care for me at all? I don't think I could bear it, Christine! I know it's silly of me since I've never even met him, but I can't help but want him to be pleased with me and I am afraid that he will think me a silly little girl. Perhaps he will even call off the betrothal right then and there!"

"Oh, Claudia, you are always so dramatic!" I said, keeping my voice deliberately light. "He will be helpless to do other than fall madly in love with you instantly. You are beautiful, talented and intelligent. What more could he possibly ask for? Now, come let us practice your scales one last time before I must go." My heart went out to the girl, but I was certain whomever this gentleman was, he would surely not be able to resist her charming personality. I had yet to meet anyone who could!

"Will you at least come to the betrothal party tonight? It would help me so much to have you there! If I know you are there with me, it would help to calm my nerves and I know I should sing better. Oh, say you will come, Christine. You simply must!"

"If it will help you, then I will come," I said, a knot forming in the pit of my stomach at the thought. "Now, one more time with the scales, please." I turned back to the piano so that Claudia would not see how nervous I had become at the thought of coming to her party. I determined that I would attempt to remain unnoticed and I would leave as soon as Claudia finished her performance.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Claudia was waiting for me that evening when I arrived. I was quite surprised by this considering how many guests had, apparently, arrived since I left her earlier that afternoon. She was in such a state of anxiety that I immediately forgot my own fears and quickly set about alleviating hers.

"Oh Christine, I cannot do this! I have changed my mind. I won't sing in front of him! I know I cannot possibly get through it with him looking at me. He will be absolutely horrified and will refuse to betroth himself to such a silly girl and I will be humiliated in front of all of my guests!"

"Claudia, you must get hold of yourself! You sing beautifully and there is no reason at all that you should worry so! He will not think you a silly girl. On the contrary, I am certain he will be proud to say he is betrothed to such a talented young lady. There now, take a deep breath and relax. That's it. Now, remember that you have worked hard and practiced for this. You could sing this piece backward if necessary!"

Claudia relaxed a little then, but her eyes clearly showed her anxiety. I knew it must be very stressful to be expected to marry a man whom you knew did not want to marry you, whatever the reason. I gave her hands what I hoped was a reassuring squeeze and she led me up to the drawing room where the guests were gathering before dinner. She introduced me to several people whose names I almost instantly forgot I was so nervous. I tried in vain to hide myself in a dark corner, but Claudia dragged me out again and again and introduced me to different people. Some were gracious and made polite conversation with me, others looked at me with distaste and barely acknowledged the introduction before pointedly ignoring me. Still others seemed curious and asked me questions about the opera house and, more specifically, about the infamous Opera Ghost. I politely avoided discussing the incident at the opera house for the most part, but by the time I was able to find a brief respite in a dark corner, I was exhausted from having to guard my words and be polite and interesting at the same time.

I looked around, curious to see this man to whom my little Claudia was to be betrothed, but, not knowing what to look for, I had no idea which young man might be him. There were several likely candidates, one dark haired brooding sort whom I could picture being less than thrilled at the idea of settling down and getting married. There was a tall fair haired fellow who seemed very uncomfortable to be here, his dark eyes darting about constantly as if seeking some escape. There was also a very handsome fellow there by the window who already seemed enamored of Claudia, watching as she moved about the room, laughing and talking with her acquaintances. His face so clearly showed his infatuation with her that I sincerely hoped this was the young man since Claudia seemed to be so worried that her future husband would not be pleased with her.

It had begun to get warm in the crowded room and I turned, intending to head out to the balcony to get some fresh, cool air, and ran straight into man who had been standing behind me. He quickly reached out a hand to steady and I looked up into Raoul's blue eyes, my own widening in disbelief.

"Raoul?" I said, uncertainly, stepping back.

"Christine!" Raoul's face registered his shock at seeing me here. "What are you doing here?"

"Claudia asked me to come to lend her support. She will be singing after dinner and she thought my presence would help to calm her. She is very nervous since she has not met her betrothed and she fears he will be displeased with her." I was babbling, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. It had been many months since I had seen Raoul and I felt awkward and unsure standing here with these people who were all mostly of his own station and me, the lowly opera singer turned vocal teacher. "I didn't realize you were friends with the De Villiers family."

Raoul frowned at me and opened his mouth to say something, but we were called in to dinner right at that moment and he was unable to finish what he was about to say. I was ushered in and shown to my seat, which was beside an elderly gentleman who seemed to enjoy carrying the conversation and I was content to let him. I figured whatever Raoul had been about to say, he would tell me later, after dinner perhaps. I smiled and nodded politely at the gentleman next to me, making an occasional comment between bites.

When we had finished dinner, we were all ushered into the ballroom where chairs had been set out. I tried in vain to locate Raoul, wanting to know what he had tried to tell me, but I didn't see him in the crowd as everyone rushed to get a seat. I resigned myself to standing, as there were not enough chairs and found a corner in the back of the large room where I could see Claudia clearly as she sang and I knew she would be able to see me. Finally I spotted Raoul, as he sat in the front, his head bent in conversation with another gentleman on his left. I didn't want to interrupt, so I stayed put.

When everyone had drifted in, the Comte De Villiers stood and welcomed everyone, thanking us for coming. "We are proud to announce the engagement of our daughter, Claudia," at this, Claudia stood and joined her father, her eyes casting nervously about the room, a weak smile upon her lips. "To the Vicomte De Chagny." There was applause and cheers as Raoul stood and took Claudia's hand in his. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear and she blushed prettily and smiled at him. I watched in shocked amazement as he slipped a ring on her finger, then leaned down and kissed her. It was a brief, chaste kiss, but the male guests hooted and cheered until their wives or daughters subdued them. Raoul glanced up briefly, his eyes seeking mine before he took his seat again.

I had to force myself to concentrate on Claudia as she began to sing, her voice rising flawlessly in the piece that we had selected. Her eyes locked on mine as she sang and I could read the gratitude in them and, more, the pleased excitement that now caused her to fairly glow. My emotions swirled violently within me and I struggled to force them to the back of my mind to be examined only when I was alone. When she had finished, the guests fairly brought the ceiling down with the applause and I knew a moment of fierce pride that I had been her teacher. Perhaps this is some of what Erik felt when I made my debut, I thought to myself, with a pang. I could not help glancing at Raoul to see his reaction and I was surprised to see him staring at Claudia, a look of rapt attention upon his face. My eyes quickly went to Claudia to see that, yes, she was looking back at him, blushing and beaming, her face nearly glowing at that moment.

I had turned to go, meaning to slip out quietly before either Claudia or Raoul could trap me and force a conversation that I did not want to have at that moment, but I was too late. Claudia was calling my name and people were turning to look at me. I had no choice but to join her in front of her guests as she introduced me to everyone as her teacher and mentor. I forced a smile and held it there until my face ached. All hope of escape deserted me as people descended upon me, each of them wanting to know if I was available to teach their little darling to sing like that. I was handed card after card and asked to call upon numerous families, each of them interested in me teaching their daughters to sing like angels.

It was after midnight when I was finally able to slip out unnoticed, I thought. I started down the moonlit path toward the village, drawing my cloak tightly around me as the nights were still very chilly.

"Christine!" Raoul's voice cut into my thoughts and I reluctantly turned to find him running toward me from the house.

"Raoul, you shouldn't be out here! Claudia will be wondering where you are," I chided, hoping he would simply turn around and go back inside, knowing that was ridiculous to even contemplate.

"We need to talk, Christine." He said, his dark eyes boring into mine as he drew closer.

"Raoul, please, there is nothing to be said. I'm happy for you. Claudia is a wonderful girl and I'm very happy for you both."

"So that's it? We haven't seen each other in months, and you find out I'm engaged to someone else and all you have to say is 'I'm happy for you'?" Raoul's voice was incredulous.

"What do you want me to say, then?" My voice rose slightly, my frustration apparent.

Raoul stopped, apparently taken aback at my tone. "I don't know, but I thought after all this time and all we've been through it would be more than 'I'm happy for you'."

"Well, I am happy for you! I'm downright ecstatic if you want to know the truth. You could have warned me, you know. You could have let me know what to expect. Don't tell me that you didn't know that I was Claudia's vocal teacher." I was beginning to work myself into a fury by this point.

Raoul's eyes lowered, then and he ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. "Yes, I knew you were Claudia's teacher, but I didn't think that you would be here tonight. I intended to tell you, but I didn't know how. I admit it was cowardly of me, but I just couldn't bring myself to tell you, of all people, that I had given up on us and agreed to marry to please my family."

He looked so miserable then that I relented somewhat. "Oh, Raoul, I'm not angry with you because of your betrothal, but because I was teaching your intended this whole time and never knew it was you to whom she was to be married! Don't you think she might be upset to learn that her teacher was once affianced to you as well? You have put us all in a very awkward situation and that is what I'm angry about."

"Christine, I know I shouldn't say this, especially now, but I still love..."

I cut him off before he could finish. "Do not say it, Raoul, for you will surely regret it. You are betrothed to Claudia now and to say such things to me would be a betrayal of her trust. I care for you, Raoul and I always will. You are my friend and I want to stay that way. If you say such things, it will make it impossible for me to continue our friendship out of respect for Claudia. Your love is owed to her now, not me. I meant it when I said I was happy for you. I have come to love Claudia in the past months and I would not see her heart broken. I saw her face when you leaned down to kiss her and she is already at least halfway to being in love with you. If you give her the opportunity she will be everything you could ask for in a wife and you will grow to love her more than you could ever love me."

Raoul stood in silence for a moment and I watched as a myriad of emotions passed across his face; hurt, anger and finally resignation. He turned back to me. "You are right, as usual," he said, his voice a mixture of resignation and bitter amusement. "It was wrong of me to even think to mention it. Please forgive me."

"Oh, Raoul, there is nothing to forgive. More than anything else, I want you to be happy and I believe you can be with Claudia if you will only allow yourself to be happy with her."

"I will try, Christine. I don't know if I can love anyone but you, but I will try." He said, his voice soft.

I smiled at him. "You can, I know. And if anyone can coax it from you it is Claudia."

"I have been so bent on speaking to you that I didn't ask you where you were going at this time of night and in only a thin cloak! Come back inside with me where it's warm."

"Oh, no, I couldn't. It's not a very long walk home."

"You can, and you will. I will get my carriage and see you home myself. No, don't bother to protest, little Lotte. It will do you no good." He took my hand and placed it in the crook of his arm and I had no choice but to keep up. I admit that I had been absolutely terrified at the thought of walking home alone in the dark, but I hadn't known what else to do. I was secretly relieved that Raoul had insisted on taking me home.

Raoul took me inside and bade me wait by the entrance while he went to get his carriage. I wandered a little way down the hall and was admiring a portrait of Claudia's mother when I heard footsteps approaching. I turned to see Claudia rushing down the hallway toward me, her face at once concerned and relieved.

"There you are!" she exclaimed as she embraced me. "I have been looking all over for you and I was worried that you had left and were wandering around in the dark somewhere and I just knew you would be attacked by some wild beast before we could find you!"

I couldn't help but smile at her silly melodramatic flair. "I am fine, Claudia. I'm sorry that I worried you, but I realized it was getting late and I didn't want to bother you. I was walking home, but the Vicomte saw me and has offered to take me home in his carriage."

"Oh, then, you have met him! He is so handsome, Christine. I know I shouldn't concern myself about appearances, but I was so relieved when I saw him. And he is a perfect gentleman too! I hope that he is not too unhappy with me."

"You worry too much. I saw his face as he watched you sing and I daresay it won't take much convincing on your part for him to fall headlong in love with you."

"Oh, do you really think so?" Her wide blue eyes stared into mine earnestly and I could see that she fervently hoped it was true. I said a prayer in my heart and hoped that I was telling her the truth.

"Yes, I do." I said, giving her what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Christine? The carriage is ready and..." Raoul stopped when he saw Claudia with me and his eyes went from her to me. My heart sank as I felt Claudia's eyes turn to regard me in confusion.

"You two know each other?" She asked, bravely holding her smile in place.

"Yes, we do, actually. I met the Vicomte when I was very young and we used to play together as children." I looked into her eyes as I spoke, wanting to assure her that there was nothing in my relationship with Raoul to be concerned about. "When my father passed away, I moved to Paris and we lost touch until we met again at the opera house. The Vicomte has been very kind to me and to all of us at the opera house since he became the patron."

"I see," said Claudia slowly looking first at me, then at Raoul and back again. "Well, then, I am glad that you are acquainted for now I can be certain that you will arrive home safely."

I was afraid to look at Raoul for fear he would betray some emotion, but I needn't have worried. He stepped forward and took Claudia's hand in his and brought it to his lips briefly. "I shall be back shortly, when I have made certain that Mademoiselle Daae is safely home."

Claudia visibly relaxed as she looked up at Raoul, her heart in her eyes. I felt a moment of sadness, but pushed it aside quickly as she turned to me to hug me goodbye, promising to call on me tomorrow so we could talk. I bid her good night and Raoul and I walked outside to his waiting carriage.

After we climbed inside and started out, Raoul reached over and took my hands in his. "Are you certain, Christine, that you are happy?"

"I truly am happy for you, Raoul."

"But that is not what I asked you. Are you happy?"

It was useless to pretend. "No, I'm not. I'm not happy at all." I burst into tears and before I knew what was happening, Raoul had taken me in his arms.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Looking back now, I see that it was only natural that it should come down to that moment. When Raoul asked me if I were happy, all of my pent up emotions crashed over me in a wave and I found myself cast adrift and Raoul was the strong hand that reached in and pulled me to safety. For months I had been maintaining a tight hold on all my fears and emotions and the kindness in Raoul's voice was more than I could bear.

I cried until I had at last purged all of the bitter disappointment and heartbreak I had been struggling with for many months now. When my tears had finally subsided, I straightened and Raoul handed me a handkerchief to dry my eyes. I looked up at him gratefully as he moved back to his own seat across from me.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," I began, my voice still thick with tears.

"There is no need to apologize," Raoul stopped me. "Tell me what's wrong, Christine. If that madman has hurt you, I swear..."

"No, no, it's nothing like that! Erik hasn't hurt me. In fact, I haven't seen him since before I left Madame Giry's"

Raoul's brow furrowed in confusion. "Haven't seen him? What do you mean? I thought you... I mean I assumed that you and he..."

"Yes, that's what I thought too. But he went away to take care of some business and there has been no word from him since he left."

"He has abandoned you?" Raoul's voice registered his incredulity. "After all this, after everything that happened, he finally has what he wanted and he just leaves? Just like that?"

I sighed. "No, you don't understand, Raoul. He didn't just abandon me. The man who attacked me in Paris was connected to Erik's past in some way and he went to make certain it could never happen again. I don't know everything, I just know that he was determined that he should go and now I am terribly afraid something has happened to him that he can't come back. What if he has been imprisoned somewhere? Or what if he has been injured and is lying somewhere unable to get help?What if he is dead?" The words just tumbled out and I felt tears threatening again.

Raoul stared at me in consternation. "Christine, you have surely gone as mad as he! You say that the man who attacked you is connected to Erik's past in some way. Surely you can see now that having this man, this criminal in your life can bring you to no good end! You must listen to me now. Let me take you away from him. No, I am not asking you to marry me, I know that you will not and I can accept that if you will only get away from _him_. I won't ask anything of you at all, I swear it, if you will only let me help you escape him before it is too late!"

We had drawn to a stop in front of my little house and I stared out the window at it, fighting back the disappointment that I felt. I had needed a friend and I had foolishly believed that Raoul would naturally fall into that role as he had when we were children. I suppose that, up until that moment, I believed that Raoul and I could remain as we had once been, that the events which had taken place hadn't changed us irrevocably. I was terribly disappointed to learn that it was not to be, but I should have expected as much. Raoul would never see Erik as anything other than a madman and a criminal and he would likely always believe that deep down I wanted to be rescued. I sighed again and turned back to Raoul.

"Thank you for the ride, Raoul. I really wasn't looking forward to walking home in the dark." I forced a smile to my lips, knowing all the while it looked strained and false.

"Christine, I'm serious! You cannot just ignore what I have said."

"No, I can't," I replied, resigned. "I appreciate your offer, really I do, but I was wrong to confide in you. You mean well and I know you want to help, but please understand that I don't need to be rescued. I don't need to escape. I am free to come and go as I please and I am happy where I am. I am only sad that I am unable to learn where Erik has gone and be assured that he is well. So, again, thank you for the ride. And congratulations on your betrothal. Claudia is a wonderful girl."

"No matter how hard I try, I cannot understand you. It wasn't so long ago that you wanted to escape him more than anything and now you cry as if your heart is breaking because you are worried about him! I simply can't fathom it!"

"Oh Raoul, all of this has been hard on you, hasn't it?" I gazed at him, seeing him as if for the first time. "I never wanted to hurt you and yet I have and for that I am deeply sorry. I only want you to be happy and I know that you can be with Claudia. She will love you far more than I could have done. I suppose there comes a time when we simply have to let go of the past and go on with our lives."

Raoul climbed wordlessly down from the carriage then turned and helped me down as well. We stood in awkward silence for a moment, then Raoul leaned down and kissed me on my cheek gently. I looked up at him in surprise.

"Goodbye, Christine. If you ever need me, you know where I can be found."

I searched his face, assuring myself he was truly in possession of all of his faculties as I had expected him to put up more of a fight than that. It seemed that he was for he continued to gaze at me, awaiting my reply.

"Goodbye Raoul." I said and I knew that we were not two friends who were simply bidding each other goodbye for a while, but we were finally saying goodbye to each other for good. The finality of the moment weighed upon us both and we were reluctant to let go, each of us for different reasons, but we knew in our hearts that the time had come and it was, at long last, the right time. I turned and walked the short distance to the front stoop and up the steps. At the door I hesitated, nearly turned back to look one last time, then I squared my shoulders, opened the door and walked inside, closing it behind me softly. I waited until I heard the sound of the horses leading the carriage away, then I relaxed against the door.

"Goodbye Raoul," I whispered again into the darkened room. I climbed the steps to my room and sat down at my dressing table. I sat there, motionless, for a long time, examining my heart. I wanted to make absolutely certain that I could truly say goodbye to Raoul. I went back and remembered how I had felt when I learned that Raoul was Claudia's betrothed. Had there been even an inkling of jealousy there? Carefully, I allowed myself to feel it all again, and I was relieved to realize that what I had felt was disappointment that I hadn't known and an instinctive fear that Claudia would take it the wrong way and be upset with Raoul and me. I knew that I could be truly happy for them and I hoped that Raoul would open his heart to Claudia.

No, I was not jealous, but seeing their faces and knowing what they could have, I had felt alone. I missed Erik more than ever before. Where is he, I wondered, and what has happened to him? Why did he have to go, I questioned my reflection in the mirror, but that Christine didn't know either. I got up wearily and began to undress. I climbed into bed and wondered where Erik could be until I fell asleep.

I awakened the next day to full sunlight. I got up quickly and dressed, knowing I had slept much later than usual. When I arrived in the kitchen, I found Meg cleaning up as Nadir read the paper at the small table. I pulled out a chair and sat down opposite Nadir. He looked up at me with his black eyes, nodded his head in greeting and went back to reading. I shifted in my seat.

"Nadir," I began and he looked up at me again, his expression unreadable. "I don't suppose you've had word from Erik recently?"

He lowered the paper and looked at me solemnly. "No, Mademoiselle, I'm sorry, but I haven't."

"Shouldn't you have heard something by now? Anything at all?" I asked, trying in vain to keep the desperation out of my voice.

"Perhaps," he replied, enigmatically.

A thought occurred to me. "You know where he is, don't you?"

"Perhaps," he said again and picked up his paper, clearly not wanting to have this conversation.

I grabbed the paper and snatched it from his hands. "Where is he?" I demanded angrily. "You have known all this time and never felt it necessary to tell me where he was?"

"Christine, it is not my place to tell you where Erik has gone." His tone was gently reproachful.

"But you know!" I cried. "You must tell me Nadir! I cannot continue this way, not knowing where he is or even if he is alive."

"Would you go to him if I were to tell you where he is?"

I blinked at him, confused. "Go to him? How could I?"

"Erik is in a very dangerous place. What he has undertaken requires time and delicacy as I told you once before. He cannot chance you coming to search for him. If you found him, you would not only put your own life in grave danger, but you would likely bring about his death for certain. He entrusted me to watch over you and keep you safe in his absence and I will do that. Part of keeping you safe is keeping you ignorant of his location. You understand?"

Meg had come up behind me and now she placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. I reached up and took her hand in mine, grateful for her friendship. "I know you are right, Nadir, but I am so afraid for him. I keep thinking if I only knew where he was I would feel better."

"It is hard, I know. But Erik is more than capable of taking care of himself. He will get word to me when he can and when he does, you will be the first to know."

"Thank you, Nadir." I said quietly.

Once again, I fell back into a routine. I was no longer teaching Claudia, but she made sure to call at my house at least once per week to have tea. I was continually amused by her romantic gushings over Raoul. He had, apparently, had a long talk with her and told her about our previous relationship. At first, she had been upset, but I assured her that there was nothing more between Raoul and me and there never would be. She eventually realized that what I said was true and warmed up to me again. For his part, I believe Raoul had become smitten with the vivacious Claudia. I had not seen him since the betrothal celebration, but things Claudia said led me to believe that he was coming around nicely.

In the weeks following the betrothal, I was inundated with invitations to call upon different families, all with young daughters interested in voice lessons, some of them in nearby Rouen. It wasn't long before I was too busy to think about much of anything. I was now conducting voice lessons every day except Sunday and had come to a place where I was required to actually turn students away. I was pleased that I had more students than I could handle, and I knew that if it kept up this way, it would not be long before I could begin thinking about opening the school that Madame Giry, Meg and I had discussed before.

The weeks passed and I stayed busy with my lessons. I tried to fill my days so that I would not have time to think about Erik, though I still asked Nadir frequently if he had any word from Erik. Before I realized it a year had passed with no word. I was still much in demand as a vocal teacher and to add to it, Claudia had drafted me to help with her wedding. I was to arrange the music and she had also requested that I sing. I was reluctant at first to accept, but Claudia would accept nothing less than my full participation.

It was on a Sunday, my only day off, that Nadir approached me. I was in my bedroom practicing my vocals for Claudia's wedding when I heard a knock at the front door. I hurried down the stairs and opened the door to find Nadir standing there.

"Nadir! Whatever are you doing? You know there's no need for you to even bother knocking. The kitchen door was unlocked, you could have come right in." I said, not noticing the grave expression on his face.

"Yes, I could have, I suppose. I didn't think of that." He said distractedly. He walked past me into the living room and I noticed that he was carrying a small wooden box. Curious, I closed the door and followed him inside.

"What's in the box?" I asked as I sank down on the sofa.

"Christine, there is something I must tell you," he said as if he hadn't heard my question. I began to worry, then as I realized how uncharacteristically he was acting.

"What is it, Nadir?" I asked, my stomach tightening painfully.

He seemed to be struggling to find the words and I was just about to ask him again when he spoke. "Christine, there is no easy way to say this. I am sorry, child, but Erik is dead."

"What?" I asked and I was suddenly glad I was sitting down because the strength had just gone out of my legs. "Dead? That can't be..."

"I'm afraid it is." He set the box aside and reached into his pocket. When he brought his hand out again, my hand went to my mouth and I began to shake my head as if to deny what I was seeing. In his hand he held a scrap of what had once been a white cloth, but it was now a dirty brownish red color. It was a mask. Erik's mask. Covered in dried blood.

I began to scream at him, then. I don't know what I said, only that he had to physically restrain me while I beat at him. Meg came running to see what was the matter, and I fell into her arms weeping uncontrollably while she tried, unsuccessfully to soothe me.

Some time later, I realized I was in my bed, and night had fallen. I tried to remember how I had gotten here, but it was all a blur to me. I had fallen into Meg's arms and wept and I vaguely remember Nadir carrying me up the stairs, but I couldn't be sure exactly what had taken place. I turned my head and saw that Meg was sitting in my chair by the window, her face turned away from me as she stared out the window and chewed on her nails. I felt the sting of fresh tears behind my eyelids and I quickly turned my head away from her.

She must have heard the movement, though, for she was instantly at my side, whispering my name and brushing my hair back from my forehead. I hadn't the strength to reply to her, so I simply said nothing as the tears slid down my cheeks. She begged me to look at her, to say something, but I just couldn't. The music was gone from my world. My Angel of Music was gone and I had nothing left, nothing to offer.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N – Thank you all for your patience with me. I have had several responses to the last chapter and some people thought the story had ended. Considering how long it took me to update, I can understand why you would get that idea! I'm sorry! **

**Anyway, the story is not finished. When Erik died, I thought perhaps Christine would give up and I would have no choice but to end the story, but she seems to have gained some strength that she was unaware she possessed. In short, she has pestered me until I had to give her my full and undivided attention and I found that her story was, indeed, far from complete. **

**Thank you all again for your kind reviews. I will try to update more frequently. - C**

Chapter 18

I had thought not knowing Erik's whereabouts was tortuous. I learned that I much preferred not knowing. I awoke each morning with the thought that the music had died within me. For nearly a week afterward I refused to speak to or see anyone other than Meg or Nadir. Meg sent word to my students that I had been taken ill and would return as soon as I was able. I imagined there was all manner of speculation as to what supposed illness I had been taken with so suddenly, but I simply did not care. They could all be hanged, as Raoul would have said. I had even had Meg turn Claudia away when she came to call.

During those days, I wondered if I even had the strength to go on with my life. I had never had much strength of will, but I had truly felt as if I were becoming a better, stronger person in the last year or so and now, I was right back to that little girl who needed an Angel of Music to nurse her through her grief. Oh, how I wished I had somehow stopped him from leaving! I tortured myself with thoughts of how I could have made him stay, knowing in my heart it would have done no good. Erik had never needed my permission or approval for anything he desired to undertake.

I dreamed of him nearly every night and thought of him constantly during the day. It hardly seemed possible that he was gone, but I had to accept it, I knew. I never imagined it could be this hard. I suppose what seemed the worst part to me was that things had been so tentative and unfinished between us. Erik had never truly accepted that I loved him and I had only recently accepted it myself. We had so much still to say to each other and so much to learn of each other and I had thought we had plenty of time in which to do so.

Every day I struggled with the simplest decisions. Would I get up today or would I simply lie in bed and stare apathetically out the window? Once up, would I put my hair up or leave it down and unkempt? What would I wear, the blue dress or the green one? I went back and forth in my mind over the smallest things, unable to choose until Meg would come and help me. I felt so foolish, but I just could not seem to concentrate on things.

Things had been going much the same for about two weeks when Nadir finally decided he'd had enough. It was late evening, after dinner and I was sitting at my dressing table pulling my hair down from the pins Meg had stuck in there to keep it up when Nadir knocked twice. I had opened my mouth to ask who was there, when he walked straight in. Had the circumstances been different, I would have been indignant at his intrusion, but as it was, I gave him only a passing glance as I tried to remember what I had been doing before he walked in.

"Good evening Christine. How are you feeling tonight?" Nadir asked as he settled himself comfortably into the chair by my bed.

"I am well, thank you," I replied mechanically, reaching for the comb to pull through my curls.

"I am pleased to hear it." Nadir looked at me, his black eyes inscrutable as I regarded him in my mirror. I felt the first stirrings of minor irritation as I turned around to regard him.

"Is there something on your mind, Nadir?" I asked, not caring if something was on his mind or not, only wanting him to have done with it and go so I could get back to...what was I doing again?

"Yes, as a matter of fact there is."

"Well? What is it?" I asked after a long pause, still only feeling a very minor sense of irritation.

"Actually, I thought I would tell you a story tonight. Would you like that?" He said, his eyes still unreadable beneath his thick black eyebrows.

"I suppose." I said,sighing and placing the comb back on the little dressing table. I got up and crossed the room to my bed and climbed in.

"I thought you might," he said, and though I could have sworn there was sarcasm in his words, I could not detect it in his face or eyes. Not that I cared.

I settled back on my pillow, already beginning to feel my lethargy dragging me down into drowsiness. I realized I would soon be asleep and I thought that perhaps Nadir would forgive me if I couldn't remain awake for the whole story. It was only a story after all.

"I would like to tell you the story of a little boy who lived many years ago. He was a beautiful and bright little boy who brought much joy to his father's heart. His name was Reza and no one who met him could do anything but love him because he was such a kind and gentle soul. His father was a close relation to the Shah of Persia, so he was forced to attend the Shah at court whenever the Shah demanded.

As Reza grew, his father noticed that there were some things that were not as they should be. At first it was small things like his hands would weaken and he would drop things, or his legs would grow tired and he couldn't run like he used to. Then his vision began to deteriorate. Soon, Reza's father realized he needed to consult a doctor, but the doctor was just as puzzled by Reza's problems as the father was. Several doctors came and examined the little boy, but none knew what could be causing the boys weakness, but they assured his father that he would grow out of these problems in time. Reza's father knew, in his heart, that his was not true. Soon the father became afraid that his son was going to die and he determined that he would spend every spare minute he had with little Reza.

It was during this time that Reza's father received a summons to court. Though he was very angry that he should be called at a time like this, he had no choice but to obey. He made haste to arrive at court quickly so that he could return as soon as possible.

The Shah was very eager to see Reza's father because the Shah's mother, the Khanum, had heard there was a magician who could perform wonders beyond all imagination and Reza's father had been gathering information about this magician for a while now. The Khanum was a very powerful woman and when she spoke into the Shah's ear, whatever she commanded was done. She had now demanded that this magician be found and brought to court for her entertainment. The Shah had determined that Reza's father was the only man who could locate this magician and 'persuade' him to come back to court and so the Shah commanded that Reza's father venture out at once and find this man and bring him back. Reza's father was very angry at this command, but he knew he must do as the Shah had bid.

He set out at once, stopping at his home to gather some provisions and bid his son farewell. Reza was very upset when he learned his father would be away for an indefinite amount of time and would not be consoled. Finally the father could bear his sons tears no longer, so he told Reza he was going to find a magician who was better than any who had ever lived before and that he, Reza's father, was going to get this magician and bring him back to Persia to meet the Shah. 'When I return,' he said to Reza, 'I will bring this great magician here to see you before I even take him to court and you, Reza, will meet him before even the Shah himself.' This seemed to placate Reza and his father soon left to pursue this great magician.

Reza's father traveled many miles and was gone for many weeks in search of this magician, but eventually he found the magician and persuaded him to return with him to Persia. When he returned, he kept his word to Reza and stopped for a short stay at his own home. From the first moment Reza met the magician, there was a strange bond between them that astonished even Reza's father. This magician was a man who was cold and aloof. He was not a kind or gentle man and cared nothing for station. He was a brilliant man, more genius than magician, but a hard life had left him bitter and angry and with an astounding willingness to shed blood. He thought nothing of taking a life and all who met him feared him to one degree or another. It had been a trying experience just convincing him to come back to Persia, but he had come and Reza's father was thankful to Allah that he had decided so for the Shah would surely have been displeased and the Khanum likely would have called for his death.

Reza's father was very concerned about how the magician would interact with his son, but when Reza was near, the magician became such a kind and gentle man one would never have believed he was the same person. Over the next months he spent hours and hours with Reza. No matter how demanding his duties at court became, he always found time for that little boy and Reza loved him for it. They grew so close, in fact, that Reza's father actually became jealous of their bond, though he never would have said so at the time.

The magician had known from the very first meeting with Reza that the boy suffered from a degenerative illness from which he would not recover, but only grow worse and worse until he died. He warned Reza's father that his son would not live very much longer. Hearing the truth spoken aloud was harder than anything he had ever had to experience, but he was unable to deny what he knew was the truth.

Reza's condition grew worse and worse until he could no longer walk or see and his father procured a wheeled chair to push him around in. The magician continued to visit Reza regularly and no matter how much Reza begged for one more story or one more song or perhaps one more magic trick, he never lost patience with him and always treated him gently and kindly. One day the magician came to the boy's father and told him that Reza would not be with them much longer. 'How long', the father asked, alarmed. The magician replied that Reza would not live more than possibly two months. The grief this brought forth in Reza's father was terrible for he loved his son more than his own life. He would have given anything to trade places with the boy, but he knew that was not possible.

The magician asked Reza's father's permission to spend the last two months of Reza's life with Reza, making him comfortable and entertaining him. Reza's father loved his son more than anything and would do anything for him, so he agreed readily. For the next two months, as Reza grew steadily worse, the house was filled with such wonders and magic that even Reza's father was awed. There were rainbows and beautiful stories accompanied by illusions and Reza was continually delighted even though he soon was not able to see at all. Even then, the magician still found ways to bring magic into Reza's small world. He sang to him and told him the most amazing stories, never getting impatient or being unkind to Reza in any way and Reza's father found that he could no longer feel jealousy over their strange and special bond because he was so grateful to the magician for bringing such joy and beauty to Reza's last days.

At last, however, Reza's health failed until one day as his father was holding a cup of water for him to sip, Reza began to choke. It became clear that his muscles were becoming too weak even to swallow. Reza's father wept because he knew that his son face a slow and agonizing death from starvation when he could no longer swallow at all. The magician came to the father and told him that Reza did not have to suffer a long and protracted death. He had something, he said, that would make the boy go to sleep peacefully and not wake up, thereby making his death quiet and merciful instead of slow and terribly painful. He showed Reza's father a little vial of liquid and explained that a drop of this would end Reza's suffering. The father wept all the more because this was the most terrible decision he had ever had to make, but in the end he agreed that a peaceful and merciful death would be the best for his son, who deserved no less. He was not, however, able to administer the liquid himself. No matter how hard he tried, he could not resolve himself to that task, so the magician went in to Reza with the little vial. Reza's father waited outside the room and when he could bear it no longer, he rushed in just as little Reza breathed his last sighing breath. The magician picked up Reza's body and placed him in his father's arms and then he was gone, leaving the father alone to grieve for his son. He would never live another day in his life without feeling the pain of Reza's death, but he knew he had to go on. He knew that his life had a purpose and there was still more for him to do, though he did not yet know what it was.

Reza's father knew that he had made the right decision and he was grateful to the magician for the rest of his days for the kindness he had shown to Reza and himself. There came an opportunity in the following months for Reza's father to help the magician, though he risked his own life to do so, but he loved the magician in his own way and the magician had come to love him as well, though neither of them knew very well how to show it, so he helped the magician and was punished severely by many years of imprisonment, but he was never sorry that he had helped the magician.

Christine, I have told you this story because you need to know that, like Reza's father, your life still has a purpose, though you may not know what it is now. It is normal to grieve and I understand that you must do so, but you must also try to return to your life as much as you can. It will be hard and every day you will find a reason to stay in bed or stay home and not venture out, but you must strive to overcome your fears and your grief and live again. Erik set you free once because he found that, when it came down to it, all he truly wanted was for you to be happy and I doubt death will have changed his wishes in that. Do you understand what I have said to you?"

I had thought I would be asleep before he finished, but I found myself sitting up straighter and paying close attention as he spoke. By the time he finished, hot tears had begun sliding down my cheeks. I looked at him closely. "Reza was your son, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was."

"And the magician...that was Erik, was it not?"

"That's right."

"Oh, Nadir! How did you ever go on? And what about Reza's mother? She must have been devastated as well."

"Rookheeya passed away shortly after Reza's birth." Nadir's voice was thick with emotion, though his eyes remained dry. I could see the pain in his eyes, however and my heart ached for him. My grief seemed a small and insignificant thing compared to the loss he had endured.

I sat there, silent for a long time, my emotions swirling within me. Nadir's words had shaken me in more ways than one. I was gratified to hear of Erik's kindness to Reza. No one would have believed it of him, I knew, but it warmed my heart to finally have tangible evidence of the gentleness and kindness that I knew to be there, somewhere under the surface of his violent and bitter facade. Oh, I had experienced Erik's gentleness before, but I was pleased to know that someone else had glimpsed the man behind the mask as well.

"Thank you, Nadir, for sharing that with me," I said, finally, sitting up and placing my hand over his.

"No, Christine, thank you for allowing me to share it with you. I have never spoken of Reza to anyone since I buried him. I think of him every day, but I have selfishly cherished those memories as mine alone, never wanting to share him with anyone until now. I believe Reza would have wanted me to share his memory with you. He would have liked you."

Wordlessly, I slipped out of bed and went to him and put my arms around his neck. He stiffened in surprise, but he did not pull away. A moment passed and I felt his arms go around me as he accepted my comfort for what it was. I had grown to love Nadir fiercely. Our relationship had grown from strange circumstances indeed, but our shared love for Erik drew us close together and I felt toward Nadir as I supposed one would feel for a favorite uncle or perhaps a beloved older brother.

I cried into his shoulder and he patted me gently, somewhat awkwardly. My heart had broken and I feared it might never recover, but at least I had friends such as Nadir, Madame Giry and Meg. In Nadir, especially, I had found someone who could understand all I was feeling and I was grateful. Presently I climbed back into bed and Nadir pulled the blanket up around me as if I were a child, then he was gone.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The morning after Nadir visited me and told me about Erik and Reza, I awakened slowly as the sun rose, its warm rays caressing my face as if to offer comfort as the, now familiar, grief washed over me once more. I sat up reluctantly, wanting only to lie back down and shut the world out, but I thought of Nadir and the terrible grief he had shared with me and it seemed to give me strength.

I climbed out of bed, intending to wash and dress when my eye was caught by a small wooden box laid on top of my dressing table. I walked over to it and examined it, feeling it was somehow familiar. The box itself was plain, with no markings or carvings on it. I picked it up and, when I did, I suddenly remembered where I had seen it before. Nadir had been carrying it the day he brought me the news of Erik's death. All at once a sense of dread settled over me and I set it back down, fearing what it may hold.

I pushed the box aside and set about getting washed and dressed. I knew my fear was ridiculous and, likely, unfounded, but I could not bring myself to open the box just yet. Once dressed, I hurried down the stairs, hoping to reach the kitchen before Meg arose. She was, apparently, still in bed as the kitchen was dark and silent when I entered. I put on some water to boil and began preparing breakfast. I eventually pushed all thought of the mysterious box from my mind as I went about the familiar tasks of cooking breakfast for Meg and me.

I had nearly finished cooking when Meg appeared, her eyes registering her surprise at seeing me up and about. She quickly recovered, her face breaking into a wide grin as she came around the little table to hug me. I hugged her back, struggling against tears, determined that I was finished crying. She squeezed me gently, then stepped back and, wordlessly began helping me finish up breakfast and we sat to eat together.

After we had eaten, I went into our little living room and sat down at the writing desk. I carefully wrote out a letter to each student and her family explaining that I had recovered from my sudden illness sufficiently that I would be returning to my teaching duties this week. Once written, I bundled the letters into a package and Meg and I walked into the village to send them out. While there, we wandered aimlessly around the little town, visiting the various shops and buying supplies. I had not been out in a while and it felt wonderful to me. By the time we returned to the little house I almost felt my normal self.

Meg and I spent the rest of the day cleaning and talking about various things. Meg seemed to be relieved that I was, apparently, recovering from the shock of Erik's death. I knew everyone had been worried about me, so I went out of my way to convince her I was feeling much better. In truth, I was feeling better, but I still felt the threat of tears at every reminder of Erik. I fought them back and won more times than I lost, but at the end of the day I found myself nearly exhausted from the effort. I wondered again how Nadir had managed when his grief had been so much more profound than mine.

I had bid Meg good night and retired to my little bedroom and had sat down at my dressing table to take down my hair when I, once again, noticed the little box. I closed my eyes and sighed deeply. I wanted to open it and, yet, I did not. I had already gotten the worst possible news I could have gotten, I reasoned as I gazed at the box. Surely whatever the box contained could not be as bad as that. I reached for the box and, hesitantly, opened it up. Inside, I found a stack of papers. I reached for the one on the top and opened it up. I frowned as I read. It was in Erik's unmistakable hand and it seemed to be instructions of some sort. My brow furrowed further as I realized it wasn't instructions so much as it was a last will and testament. A will? Erik had a will? Had he known he would die, then? No, that is not possible, for he promised me he would return, I thought as my heart tightened with grief again.

I forced myself to close my eyes and breathe deeply for a moment, then I opened them again and read the will carefully from beginning to end. As I read, my eyes became wider and wider and my hand went to my chest as the realization of what I was reading began to sink in. This could not possibly be! But it was, for it was right here in front of me, was it not? Setting the will aside, I carefully pulled out each paper in the box and scanned them individually. A sense of unreality had begun to set in and I wished desperately for Nadir.

Replacing the stack of papers in the box, I closed the lid gently and sat there gazing at my reflection in the mirror, unseeing. My mind was filled with a myriad of confusing thoughts as I sat there trying to make sense of what I had just read. It looked as if Erik had written this soon after I left the opera house with Raoul, though why on earth he would have done so escaped me. Perhaps he expected to die after I left. God knew I now understood how grief could affect someone to think that one would surely die of it. I wanted to speak to Nadir, but knew it was impossible at this hour. I brushed my hair mechanically, got undressed and climbed into bed, my mind still on the papers I had just read. I slept very little that night as I turned it all over and over in my head. I determined that I would go to visit Nadir first thing in the morning and discuss it with him.

The morning dawned gray and misty and I knew it was going to be rainy and miserable all day as I dressed and hurried down the stairs. Meg was up and had started breakfast. I helped her finish and ate quickly, impatient to get to Nadir's. I had just finished cleaning up and had thrown on my cloak to go out when Nadir opened up the patio doors off the kitchen and stepped inside. I was relieved to see him as I had not much wanted to venture out in the wet weather. I invited him to sit and have some tea which he accepted. I replaced my cloak on its peg by the door and sat down opposite him, waiting for him to finish his tea.

"Did you leave the wooden box on my dressing table?" I asked, finally, unable to hold my silence until he finished.

"Yes, I did." He replied, setting his cup down. "I'm glad you found it."

"Did you know what was inside?" I asked, my brow furrowing once again as I thought of the contents of the box.

"No, I never opened it. Erik gave me explicit instructions many months ago that upon the event of his death I was to go and collect this box. He gave me directions to where it had been hidden and told me that it was to go to you. When I received word of his death, I retrieved the box as he had requested and brought it to you as soon as I could get back from Paris."

I looked away, out the back window across the garden and contemplated my next words. I had half convinced myself that Nadir had somehow contrived the contents of the box in a misguided attempt to help me, but hearing the truth in his words, I discarded that theory. All that remained now was that Erik had indeed written the will in the box and intended it for me.

"He wrote out a will, Nadir. That's what is in the box. Erik's last will and testament." I said, turning back to him, my eyes searching his intently. "Can you believe that? I don't know what I thought, honestly. I guess I believed that he lived under the opera house because he had no where else to go, no means to support himself. I knew that he extorted money from the opera managers, but I again made the assumption that he must be desperate to demand money in such a manner. I should have known better. He always told me I was terribly naïve and I suppose he was right, wasn't he?"

"There were many things that Erik chose to keep secret, never fully trusting anyone. After all he had been through, who could blame him?"

"He was very wealthy, Nadir." I said, quietly. "He has left the bulk of all he owned to me, with shares for you, Madame Giry and Meg. There is enough, even in the shares left to you and Madame Giry, that none of us should ever have to earn a living again."

Nadir's face ran the gamut of emotions, from surprise, to anger, then wonder and finally to resignation, all in the space of a few seconds. I sympathized as I had felt much the same upon reading Erik's will the evening before. "The bastard knew I could not argue with him after his death." He said, finally and I smiled sadly.

"Oh, Nadir. I don't want his money or property or anything else. I just want him. I want him to come back."

"I know, dear one, but you must accept that he is gone."

Nadir and I sat there and talked quietly for a good portion of the morning before he rose to go and I went about my chores. I thought about Erik's will a good deal that day. It was more money than I had ever come in contact with before. I hadn't the faintest idea what to do with it all and I found myself wishing he had given it to someone else; Madame Giry maybe.

That evening, I sat down and wrote a letter to Madame Giry explaining Erik's will to her and letting her know that I would need to come to Paris sometime in the next weeks to see to his affairs. I would bring Meg with me and at that time we could discuss it further, I wrote. I told Meg about it and, true to character, she was ecstatic, though she tried bravely to hide it from me, not wanting to upset me. I laughed heartily as I watched her face light up, then fall again as she realized what she had, then remembered that I was grieving for Erik and she should not be so joyous in front of me. I felt much better afterward, as I had not laughed in a good while.

During the next weeks, I became increasingly busy, first with my students, then making preparations to be in Paris for an indefinite amount of time. I wrote to Claudia, explaining that I would be away for a while to which she responded that she would love to accompany me as she had not been to Paris since she was young, but her wedding plans were so pressing that she was unable to get away just now. I smiled, thinking how much I had missed her sunny personality.

When, at last, Nadir, Meg and I arrived in Paris, we were greeted warmly by Madame Giry. I was happy to see her as well and we stayed up long into the night the first night, talking about so many things, not the least of which was Erik and his unexpected bequests. Over the next several days I was terribly busy as I tried to make sense of all that Erik had done. I visited the solicitor that Erik had specified only to learn he had never met Erik in person, that all of their business had been conducted via letters and messengers. As he was not the curious sort, he informed me dryly, this arrangement had worked out wonderfully. As he went over the will with me and explained all of Erik's investments and interests, I learned that I had underestimated the size of Erik's fortune. He had sold architectural plans, drawings and contracts, he had invested in several ventures that he had profited handsomely from, not the least of which was the Parisian opera house. I was left aghast when he had finished explaining just how wealthy I now was. When I left his office, my head was spinning. I went back to Madame Giry's and found that she was as astounded as I to learn of the depths of Erik's bequests to us all.

I returned to the solicitor many times during the following weeks, finalizing all of the paperwork that was involved to transfer all of Erik's holdings to my own name. Soon, everything was complete and there was nothing left for me to do, but go to Erik's house under the opera and go through his belongings. The very thought filled me with grief and dread. I had no desire to go back there. I had not been there since he had released Raoul and me and it held so much of him that I was afraid I would be so overcome that I would never emerge. I contacted Nadir and asked him to accompany me, which he reluctantly agreed to do, obviously not wanting to any more than I did.

We descended into the depths under the opera house, both of us dreading all we would find there. As we entered the house on the opposite side of the lake, I was overwhelmed by the sense of Erik's presence. Several times, I just knew he was waiting on the other side of a door, or around a corner and I would eagerly rush to find him there, only to realize again that he was gone. It was foolish of me, I knew, but I missed him so much.

Nadir and I went through Erik's belongings methodically and soon realized it would not take us nearly as long as we had anticipated. Erik had, apparently, done without all but the barest of necessities here in his underground lair. I remembered that it had been slightly more welcoming when I had been there with him. I had had everything that a girl could have wanted during my stay, but there was no evidence now that I had ever even been here. Something about this lack left me feeling cold and empty.

When we had completed our inventory, Nadir and I had a light lunch and discussed what to do about the house and all the belongings. We were unable to come to any definite decision, so we decided to take with us only things that we knew Erik would not want found and a few things that held meaning for us, personally. Everything else we left as we found it.

At last we emerged from beneath the opera house into the cold sunlight of early winter, each of us carrying a few things brought from below. I had gathered much of Erik's music, including his opera, _Don Juan Triumphant_, though I did not dare to open it. Somehow, it just felt right that I take it with me, even though I knew it would never be published or performed.

That night, as I lay in bed at Madame Giry's, I had the first of what proved to be a succession of dreams about Erik. In all of them I dreamed that Erik was calling out to me. I had a terrifying sense that he needed me desperately, but I was unable to get to him. Each dream ended the same, I would awaken, calling out to him, "Erik I'm coming! Wait for me, I'm coming!" The dreams were so vivid and so real, that I began to dread going to sleep at night. I didn't have the dreams every night, but I never knew when I would find myself once again running through empty darkened hallways, trying in vain to reach Erik, never able to find him.

The weeks again began to pass in a predictable routine. I returned to Boscherville and resumed my teaching, but Madame Giry and I had begun discussing plans to build a school for girls. Now that I had the means, I sent word to Raoul that I was now ready to discuss the purchase of the house from him. We managed to conduct the sale mainly through agents and solicitors as Raoul was busy with his wedding plans and I was teaching and also planning my school.

That winter Raoul and Claudia were married in a beautiful ceremony in Paris. I sang at their wedding as requested and was able to congratulate them both heartily. I was so glad that Raoul had finally allowed himself to fall in love with someone else and I smiled wistfully as I watched them together; all the secret smiles, Claudia blushing prettily while Raoul looked at her with so much love it nearly brought tears to my eyes.

After the wedding, when I returned to Boscherville, Madame Giry came with me and we decided that Paris would be the best location for our school. I knew that this meant I would have to move back to Paris once the building was completed. I loved my house in Boscherville and knew it would be hard to leave it, but I felt, too, that it was the right thing to do.

The weeks passed quickly as we prepared to begin the building of our school. I spent most of my time either teaching or making arrangements for contractors and materials, researching building sites and learning as much as I could about the process of running a successful business. I relied heavily on Madame Giry who possessed a good business sense despite her lack of experience.

Construction began in the spring and it took nearly a year to complete, but when it was finished, it was magnificent! I knew Erik would have been pleased with it, had he been there. Once the school was completed, I quickly made arrangements to move back to Paris, closing up the little house in Boscherville indefinitely. I considered selling the house, but decided against it almost as soon as the thought entered my head. I would keep it in case I ever needed a place to go and get away.

I quickly learned that running a business in theory is very different from the actual practice of it. Madame Giry, Meg and I had our hands full from the very beginning, as student applications began to pour in from the moment we announced the school would begin operations the following fall. Our days were spent going over applications and deciding whom to interview and our evenings were devoted to meeting with solicitors and other business meetings. We found ourselves mentally and physically exhausted most nights as we fell into our respective beds.

I continued to be plagued by dreams of Erik and I was becoming increasingly restless as a result. Despite how busy I was, I could not seem to get over him. I thought of him constantly and dreamed of him at night. I began to lose weight and found it hard to concentrate. Madame Giry and Meg began to notice the changes in me and expressed their concern, but I was not ready to share what I had been feeling with them. I knew it would only alarm them, so I made a concerted effort to maintain a careful facade when I was with them. Gradually they began to relax. I suppose they chalked it up to simple exhaustion.

That fall, we opened our school with fifty students in residence. From the beginning the school was a success. The rebuilding of the opera house was nearing completion and we hoped that our graduates would soon be performing within its walls. It wasn't long before we had acquired a name for taking on only the most talented and promising students and we were inundated with applications. We soon found it necessary to take on additional staff to manage the growing student base. Madame Giry managed the staff and the business affairs, I taught vocal technique, Meg handled dancing and we hired several people we had known in our years at the opera to teach acting and musical composition.

Nadir handled matters of security for us as his background made him uniquely qualified to do so. There was no shortage of people who wanted to take advantage of three single women who found themselves in possession of a fortune. Nadir helped us to research all potential investors or patrons as well as any staff we decided to hire. In this respect, we knew we could not be too careful.

Slowly things settled down to a comfortable level and everyone except for me was able to relax now. I continued to be distracted by obsessive thoughts of Erik. I began to believe I may be going insane. I saw him sometimes from the corner of my eye, but when I turned around, no one was there. I heard his voice whispering my name in the darkened hallways of the school when no one else was around and I still dreamed of him. The dreams had begun to appear more and more frequently until I was dreaming of him nearly every night. Eventually, I became convinced that Erik needed me. I didn't understand why I felt this way and in my confusion I became overly emotional, often crying for no apparent reason, or going on a tirade over a trivial matter with a staff member. I fear I earned a reputation as a diva during those times.

I had been fearful of the dark since I had been attacked outside Madame Giry's house, but I had been able to overcome that particular fear somewhat in the intervening years. Now, though, I found that I was regressing into that same fearful person who jumped at every shadow and never wanted to be left alone. I tried to hide my increasingly odd behavior, but it soon became inevitable that those close to me would begin to notice. I caught them gazing at me worriedly or exchanging concerned glances when they thought I wasn't looking. I tried to maintain a facade of normalcy, but it was useless.

Finally, Madame Giry, Meg and Nadir all cornered me in my office one evening after my lessons were completed. When I looked up from my desk to see all three of them standing there, I knew what was coming. Sighing, I laid my pen down on my desk and waited.

"We came to see how you have been, my dear." Madame Giry began as she sat down on a chair opposite my desk. Nadir moved in behind her and Meg took the chair beside her.

"I've been fine, Madame. Why do you ask?" I replied, knowing full well why they were asking.

"You haven't been yourself lately, Christine." That was Meg. Trust Meg to get straight to the point. "We're worried about you. You nearly took poor Marguerite's head when she failed to sing her assigned piece correctly. She came to dance class in hysterics and I could do nothing with her, so I sent her to her room to rest. You jump at shadows, you've chewed your nails till your poor fingertips have begun to bleed, you're not eating and there are dark shadows under your eyes. You look frightful!"

I sat there in silence as Meg listed all the things that concerned them. When she had finished, I sat back in my chair and looked at my hands in my lap, not knowing what to say.

"Christine, we are not here to make you feel worse," Madame Giry said, with a severe look at Meg. "We are worried about you, though. You have lost weight and you look as if you are frightened of something much of the time. Can you not tell us what bothers you and perhaps we can help you?"

"I cannot tell you," I whispered, still looking at my hands.

"But why not? Surely there is nothing so terrible that you cannot talk to your friends. We love you, Christine. We only want to help you."

"You would think me insane if I told you, Madame. I know you love me, all of you. I love you all as well, you are my family, but I am afraid I cannot tell you what ails me for you would surely not believe me."

"How can you know what we would believe or not believe unless you tell us? As for thinking you insane, nothing could be farther from the truth. I doubt there is anything you could tell us that could make any one of us believe that."

I looked up into her kind, sincere eyes. I noticed the lines around her eyes that seemed to have appeared only recently and her hair had turned nearly completely gray. I wanted to confide in her, tell her everything, but did I dare? I glanced at Meg and Nadir, each of them wearing identical expressions of concern as they regarded me across the desk. I may as well tell them, I thought. Perhaps talking of it aloud would help me to move past it somehow.

"I have been having dreams of Erik nearly every night," I began. I told them about how the dreams were getting more and more urgent and how I now had begun to see him and hear him. I poured my heart out and held nothing back as I told them how I felt he desperately needed me, though I couldn't understand why I should feel this way as he was dead more than two years now.

I felt, rather than saw the looks of "This is worse than we had thought" pass between them. Suddenly annoyed, I sat up straighter. "Would you like to revise your opinion of my supposed sanity now?" I asked bitterly.

"Christine!" Nadir said sternly. "We are here to help you."

Deflated, I sat back. "I know that, Nadir, and I know how crazy it sounds, but it's true. Somewhere, somehow, Erik needs me and I must help him! I don't know how to do that, but I can no longer ignore what I'm feeling."

"Erik cannot possibly need you, Christine! He's dead," Madame Giry leaned forward, her eyes fixing upon mine. "I know it has been hard on you, especially this past year. You've been so busy with the school and getting it off the ground that you've hardly had time to think of yourself at all. This is obviously a sign that you are simply exhausted and need some time to rest."

"Mama is right, you know. You've worked tirelessly to make this school a success, never thinking of your own needs. And you've done a wonderful job of it! Just look around, the school is already beginning to earn a profit, we have more students than we have room for and now we have a good, trusted staff to help relieve us of some of our worry. We think it is, perhaps, a good time for you to take some time off and recuperate."

I stared at them, uncomprehending at first. "Time off? You can't be serious. Who will take my classes, then? Who will catch up all this paperwork that you see before you on my desk?"

"We have thought of that already. We have taken the liberty of speaking to Madame Eleonore and she has indicated that she would be delighted to fill in for you for a few weeks."

By this time I was absolutely furious. Madame Eleonore was more than capable of filling in for me for a short period, I knew. She was an established opera singer, though she had not yet made a name for herself as a prima donna. My students would be in good hands, but that did nothing to quell the rising fury within me. "I see." I said through clenched teeth. "You have decided, without me, what is best for me. How very kind of you all. If it's all the same to you, then, I believe I shall begin my holiday at once." I stood and stalked past them to the door and out into the hallway. I was so angry that I had to turn around and go back past my office because I had turned the wrong way in the outer corridor. Once outside, I hailed a passing carriage and rode, steaming, to my townhouse that I had purchased so as to be close to my school. They thought I needed some time off, did they? Well, that was fine with me. I knew that, dead or alive, somehow Erik needed me and I would help him, regardless of what they may think and no matter what I had to do to accomplish that, I was prepared to do it.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

My fury had given way to hurt by the time I actually reached my home. I went up to my bedroom and sank down in a comfortable chair by the fire. Only then did I allow the tears that had been threatening to flow freely. I stared into the fire as Aimee, my maid, bustled around lighting lamps and setting out my dressing cloak. I was nearly convinced that I was indeed losing my mind for what Madame Giry said was true. Erik was dead. I did not believe that he could be communicating with me from beyond the grave. That was simply ridiculous and sounded a lot like something Meg would have come up with.

So, if Erik could not communicate with me from beyond the dead, did that mean that he was alive somewhere? No, that couldn't be. I had seen the bloody mask with my own eyes. Nadir surely would not have informed me of Erik's death unless he had been absolutely certain. I wanted to think rationally, but I realized that my thoughts were taking a detour into the irrational. I forced myself to relax and think slowly.

Erik was dead. It was that simple. But was it really? Neither Nadir nor I had seen his body. Just because we have not seen a body does not mean he is not dead, I reminded myself. There are many reasons why there would be no body to view, none of which I wanted to contemplate as having been Erik's possible fate. So, how exactly, did Erik die? I realized that I didn't really know how Erik had died. I had accepted Nadir's word that he was, indeed, dead. My grief had overwhelmed me to the point that for several weeks afterward I had barely spoken to anyone. Seeing that mask (dear god all that blood!) had been enough to convince me. During the weeks after, I had been so busy learning to accept his death, that I had only asked Nadir perfunctory questions about Erik's death.

"How did he die, Nadir?" I had asked one evening as we played chess in the living room of my Boscherville home.

"Christine, you must not think of these things. It can only cause you more grief." Nadir had seemed uncomfortable answering my question.

"I need to know, don't you understand?" I implored, sitting back in my chair and setting my pawn down on the table in front of me.

Nadir sighed deeply, then before answering. "He was set upon by assassins. They ambushed him and, though he fought well, he was outnumbered."

I remember I had cried and Nadir had tried to comfort me, but I hadn't wanted to be comforted, so I had mumbled an excuse and fled to my room where I cried myself to sleep.

Thinking back now, oh how I wished I were possessed of more strength of character! I should have demanded an explanation of Nadir. I should have made him tell me all he knew of where Erik had gone, who had killed him and why. I sighed, frustrated at myself and at Nadir. So, was there a possibility that Erik was not dead? Again, my initial reaction was to dismiss the thought. After all, if one supposed that Erik was not dead, then one had to question why Nadir had received word that Erik was, indeed, dead. Who could have given that information to Nadir and for what purpose? Did this person also believe Erik to be dead or were they deliberately trying to deceive Nadir? Or could Nadir possibly know that Erik was alive and was keeping this information from me? But if that were true, then why would he keep this from me, knowing how I had grieved? I believed Nadir's affection for me to be genuine, so I could not fathom why he would keep such a secret from me. Unless Erik had instructed him to do so... I sat up straighter. Could it be? But again, I had to ask why? Why would Erik wish me to believe him dead?

Nothing was making any sense to me at this point and I was beginning to give myself a headache. I called Aimee and asked her to bring me some tea and I had just decided to get undressed and go to bed when Aimee returned, too quickly to have gotten the tea already. She gave me a quick nod in apology and informed me that there was a gentleman to see me. I instructed her to have my tea brought to the small parlor in the front and I hurried down the stairs, knowing it was likely Nadir come to talk some sense into the flighty Christine once again. Well, I was prepared for him this time, I thought with determination.

I stepped into the parlor and discovered that it was, indeed, Nadir. Bracing myself, I squared my shoulders and offered him a polite 'good evening' before inviting him to sit down. Never one to mince words, Nadir got right to the heart of the reason for his visit.

"Madame Giry and Meg are worried about you, Christine. You should not have stormed out like that. They are only concerned for you." His voice was reproachful and his expression matched his tone perfectly.

"Nadir, they went behind my back and arranged for my absence without ever consulting me. They didn't give me a choice as to whether or not I would like to take some time off. If they were so concerned about me, they should have spoken to me long before now."

"Perhaps they should have; who am I to say? But you don't make it easy to ask after your well-being, especially in the last month or so. You have been unpredictable in temper, lashing out at the slightest provocation and sometimes with no provocation at all! You have forgotten appointments, you jump at shadows and act for all the world as if you are terrified of something or someone, yet you will not confide in anyone. You get angry when someone asks. You can hardly blame them for not coming to you before now."

"I told them they would not believe me!" I cried, suddenly, practically leaping from the chair I had settled in. "How can I confide in someone that I am afraid I am going insane?"

"You are not going insane, child." Nadir said, his voice soft, his eyes filled with concern.

"No?" I asked as I paced back and forth in front of him. "What would you say, then, is the matter with me? I see Erik, Nadir. I see him in a crowd of people, out of the corner of my eye, or his reflection in a glass but when I turn, he is not there. There is no other that it could be! I see his white mask, his black cloak and gloves. Do you know of anyone else who prefers to wear a mask over his features when he is out and about? I thought not. I dream of him nearly every night now. In these dreams he is calling to me and his voice is weak and distorted and I know he is hurt, somewhere and he needs me desperately, but I cannot find him, no matter how fast I run or where I turn. I have begun to stay awake at night, trying to avoid these terrible dreams, but the feeling grows in me. I can no longer ignore it. I must help him." I came to a stop in front him, dropping to my knees by his chair and took his hands in mine. "Nadir, we cannot be sure that he is truly dead. Neither of us saw his body. Anyone could contrive a bloody mask if they wanted to make us believe he is dead!"

Nadir stared at me for a moment, then he began to shake his head. "No, dear one, he is dead. He would have found a way to come back to you long ago if he were alive."

"He is only a man! What if he were injured or sick and unable to come? Or what if he is being held against his will?" The more I spoke it aloud, the more convinced I became that Erik was alive and the more determined I became that I would find him.

Nadir's brows furrowed as he regarded me in growing alarm. "You are not well, Christine. I think, perhaps, you need to rest. Let me call for little Aimee to come and help you to your bed." He half rose, but I was up and across the room before he could get out of his chair. I planted myself firmly between him and the little bell pull that would call for Aimee.

"Tell me where he went, Nadir. If he is dead, then you cannot be held to your promise not to tell me."

I watched as his mouth thinned into a straight line beneath his graying mustache. "I cannot do that. It is for your own safety that I..."

"I will not have everyone else determining what is or is not 'safe' for me to know any longer!" I shouted at him, stamping my foot in utter frustration. "If you won't tell me, then I shall have to find out for myself. I believe you know the way out." I turned and strode out the door without looking back, my heart pounding in my chest, hoping Nadir would not call my bluff. My heart sank as I reached the stairs and began to climb.

"Wait, Christine." I heard Nadir's weary voice behind me and I could barely contain my excitement as I turned to regard him gravely.

"Yes?" I asked, my brows raised in polite, but cool, question.

"Come back to the parlor and have Aimee fetch some more tea. It's going to be a long evening." His voice was flat and I knew he was terribly displeased, but I didn't care. My heart pounded in my chest as I contemplated the possibility that Erik may not be dead after all. I walked carefully into the parlor and rang the little bell that would summon Aimee, then I sat in my chair and regarded Nadir coolly. Aimee appeared presently and gathered up the tray of tea she had brought earlier, now gone cold. I am certain it did not escape her notice that we had not touched that pot of tea and now we were requesting another. I made a mental note to increase her wage as soon as possible.

Nadir stood by the fireplace, apparently, trying to gather his thoughts. When he turned to me, his face was troubled and I could see he was reluctant to divulge any information to me at all. "When Erik was in Persia, he was commissioned by the Shah to design the new palace. The khanum, mother of the Shah, wanted him there for other reasons, but between them, they kept him busy. When he was not working on the new palace, he was building torture chambers for the khanum's pleasure. I see this shocks you. It should. The khanum is no one to be trifled with. She holds the ear of the most powerful man in all of Persia. Do not doubt that when her command is given, it will be carried out with all haste, despite one's personal feelings regarding the carrying out of any such plan.

The khanum became increasingly demanding of Erik, always wanting to be entertained in the bloodiest manner possible. Erik was exhausted from his duties for the Shah, his entertainment of the khanum and always taking the time to spend with a very sick little boy who loved him. The palace was nearing completion and the Shah was determined that Erik would not leave Persia alive. He knew too much, you see. The Shah had Erik install many secrets in the palace. Passageways, traps, hiding places and many other things that I know nothing of.

As you know, when the Shah handed down his death sentence, it fell upon me to arrest Erik and escort him to prison to await execution. That is when I helped him escape. I went back to the Shah and begged his forgiveness for my incompetence, but he was very angry. He sentenced me to be imprisoned and I remained incarcerated for five years. I was fortunate. He could have had me beheaded on the spot, but he was merciful due to our familial relationship.

When I was released from prison, I came to Paris. I did not, at the time, think that I would find Erik here, but we happened upon each other one evening as we were both heading for the opera. Now that I look back on it, I almost wish we had remained ignorant of each other's presence in the city. None of this would have happened, had we not chanced to meet that night.

The five years that I was imprisoned only served to heighten the khanum's desire for Erik's death. The Shah still desired his execution, but for different reasons. He, likely, would have let it go were it not for the khanum, always there, ranting about the injustice, filling his mind with images of Erik spilling all of his precious secrets, leaving him vulnerable to assassination. The khanum used all of her persuasive powers on her son, no doubt, and the result was my release from prison. Yes, I now know it was the khanum who effected my release so that I could be followed.

I never knew that I nearly led them straight to Erik. Fortunately, it had been a year since I had moved to Paris when I ran into Erik again for the first time, and the men hired to watch me had grown lax in their duties. If they had not, Erik would have been dead long before the attack on you ever took place.

As it was, after all that happened at the opera when Erik tried to imprison you, you left with the Vicomte and the men stepped up their surveillance on me. In the months following the fire, Erik rarely ventured out and I was very careful when I went to his house under the opera. Though I did not know I had been tracked down, I still was wary enough of those who may want to harm Erik that I made sure I was not followed every time I went there.

I had become very concerned about Erik's health. He stopped composing, refused to even look at architectural plans, let alone design them. He was indifferent to all that went on about him, not caring if he lived or died. He still ventured above periodically to check on Madame Giry, however. One evening when I went to visit Erik he was in a terrible state. He had nearly destroyed his music room in a terrible rage, but by the time I arrived, he was exhausted and weak. He told me he had come upon you in Madame Giry's garden unexpectedly. Yes, I see you remember that night. Erik told me what happened. He was enraged at himself, not at you, child. He was shocked that he had lost control in such a manner and was terrified that he would hurt you further and asked me to check on Madame Giry and Meg periodically for him, which I agreed to do.

The men who had been watching me soon realized I was venturing out at nights to check up on Madame Giry, though they did not know who she was or why I should be watching her. They immediately set up a watch on her home in addition to the men who were following me. I had no idea the khanum could exercise such patience and persistence, but in the end, it seems to have paid off for her. The man who attacked you swore he had no idea who you were but only happened to find you out that night. Erik believed otherwise and in the end the man confessed to him that I had been followed for more than a year in the hopes of finding me with him. He named all of the men that had been watching and he wasted no time in finding them all and extracting confessions from each of them in turn.

Erik knew, then, that he would have no peace unless he went back to Persia to confront the khanum and the Shah. I wanted to go with him, but he begged me to stay here and ensure you were safe. I reluctantly agreed and Erik left.

When I received the mask, it came from a contact that I have within the palace. He claims that Erik nearly succeeded in his attempt to assassinate the khanum, but she had been expecting just such an attempt and he was caught. He related that the khanum had intended to make a public spectacle of Erik's execution and was enraged that he had been killed in the ensuing fight. She commanded that every one of her personal body guards be put to death for denying her the pleasure of slowly torturing Erik to death. He was able to procure the mask to send to me as proof of Erik's demise, though I do not know how he managed that. I trust him, so I have no reason to doubt that Erik is dead. So you see, Christine, Erik is gone. You must let this go and move on. It is unhealthy to dwell so much upon the past as you must have learned by now. Erik cannot need you. You have to let him go now. Perhaps that is what he is trying to tell you. That you should put his spirit to rest and allow him his peace. If anyone has ever earned the right to rest in peace, I believe it is Erik."

We sat in silence for a long while as I let all that Nadir had said sink in. I wondered if I could handle it if I ventured out to find Erik only to find out he truly was dead. Could I bear his death twice? I didn't think so. I knew that if I persisted in this it could very well mean that I would never be the same again. Was I willing to risk my very sanity to know the truth? Considering the state of my mind right now, I didn't think I would be risking very much!

"Nadir, neither you nor I have seen Erik's body. Your source may well be trustworthy, but he could be mistaken. I don't know why the khanum would say he is dead when he is not unless she holds him captive, but perhaps she has done just that. Or maybe she believes him dead as well. I don't know. All I do know for sure, is that I need to know. I have to find out if he lives. Somehow, from somewhere, I am certain that Erik is reaching out to me and I cannot stay here and do nothing. I will go to Persia and find out for myself if he lives."

"Mon Dieu!" Nadir exclaimed in a rare display of temper. "Have you not heard anything I have said to you, you stubborn child? The khanum would love nothing more than to have you in her clutches. She may not know what you meant to Erik, but if you go there, she would soon have that information in her possession. Think what that would mean for Erik if she did indeed have him held captive as you suggest. Yes, Christine, you could very well bring about not only your own death, but his as well, if he were alive, that is."

"Then tell me what I should do! Should I continue to live like this? Seeing Erik at every turn, dreaming of him at night until I become completely insane? What would you have me do? Perhaps I should simply turn myself in at the nearest asylum for the insane."

"You are not insane! You are simply overly tired, perhaps. The stress is..."

"I am _not overly tired_!" I shrieked at him, picking up a tea cup and flinging it at his head. It shattered against the stone hearth of the fireplace, missing Nadir by a large margin, but he looked alarmed, nonetheless. He rushed over to me and grasped me by my upper arms and shook me once.

"Get hold of yourself, Christine!" He said vehemently, his breath hot against my face as I turned away from him, struggling against his hold, trying to free myself from his grip. He was quite a bit older than I but I realized quickly that he was nowhere near as frail as he might appear. His grip was like iron as he held me still and, eventually, I subsided. He released me and I collapsed in a heap at his feet, sobbing out all of my frustration and anger.

Nadir lowered himself to the floor beside me and gathered me into his arms, rocking me back and forth as a father might have done a wayward child. "There, child, hush now. I know you are not insane. We all know that you are not insane. I don't know why you are having these visions, but I can see how they are affecting you. I will write to my contact at the palace and ask him more questions about Erik. Will that suffice for now? If he cannot answer them satisfactorily, then I shall be on the first ship back there to find out what happened for myself, I promise."

I nodded, unable to speak. I was relieved, but still, in the back of my mind was the nagging thought that I was going quite mad and it scared me more than I cared to admit.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

After that evening with Nadir, things began to move rather quickly. He sent his letter the following morning and we waited anxiously for a reply. Nearly three weeks passed before we received the letter back, unopened with a note scribbled on it to indicate that the person addressed was unknown or no longer at the address specified. This seemed to concern Nadir greatly and I believe that is when he began to entertain the idea that Erik may actually still be alive somewhere.

I must admit that I was so anxious to go find Erik that I would have done most anything to get to Persia, even if I had to go alone. Nadir and I discussed the situation endlessly, picking apart our reasons for going or staying, struggling to come to a decision. For Nadir, to go back was to entertain great risk. Being closely related to the Shah had played a large part in keeping Nadir alive for these past years, but if he were to return, he knew he would likely face assassination. No, he would not be publicly executed for he had committed no crime, but accidents happen all the time and even more so to those who have, in some way, fallen out of favor with the Shah.

Knowing it would put Nadir in grave danger to return put a damper on my enthusiasm for his returning with me. I became determined to go, however, whether Nadir accompanied me or not. The thought of going alone filled me with terror and I literally had to sit down to quell the resulting wave of dizziness the thought caused me. Nadir and I finally decided that he would go in disguise as a French businessman and I would be his niece and ward.

Nearly two months since Nadir and I had our discussion in my townhouse, we were finally prepared to make the long journey to Mazanderan. We would travel to Marseilles and from there we would sail most of the way. It would be a long and arduous journey, but I was determined and Nadir was resigned. From the moment we set off we were no longer Christine and Nadir, but Mademoiselle Christiane Dubois and her uncle Monsieur Etienne Dubois.

During the majority of our journey, Nadir and I kept to ourselves as much as possible, preferring to have dinner in our cabins rather than with other passengers. Fortunately, this time of year, there weren't many travelers, so there were few observers to remark upon our odd behavior. Of necessity, Nadir and I were forced to spend more time together than we had been accustomed to and we learned many things about each other throughout the long days. He told me many stories of his homeland and I learned about the Shah and the khanum and Persian court life. His lip curled in distaste as he described the hateful cats that were highly favored by the Shahs of Persia. I laughed as I pictured the cats hissing at him as he approached the Shah.

Eventually we both became irritable and restless. Chess had occupied us in the beginning, but it soon lost all appeal as we sailed through the long days and nights. My dreams of Erik continued most nights, but they had changed. Now as I ran, opening one door after another, I could hear Erik's voice calling my name. His tone was filled with so much sorrow that I felt as if my heart would break anew each time he repeated my name. I would begin to sob and beg him to wait for me. I tried to tell him that I was coming, but he seemed not to hear me and only continued to call out my name in that mournful, yet beautiful voice. I awakened from these dreams crying his name, my pillow soaked with tears. I was terrified that this meant time was running out.

When, at last, we landed near Turkey, I was so thankful to see dry land, I briefly entertained the idea of leaping overboard and swimming to shore, for surely I could get there faster than we were being ushered off by the crew. In the end, I deemed it wise to stay aboard until I was instructed to walk down the narrow plank to the dock. Nadir followed and we immediately sought rooms for the night. We began our overland journey the following morning. It would not take as long to get to Mazanderan from where we were, but it would still be several days journey.

Nadir and I spent our days talking quietly in our carriage. We decided that when we reached Mazanderan, he would first attempt to locate his contact from the palace. If he were still alive and, perhaps, living nearby, then there was a chance he would have more information. We were not holding out hope of finding him alive, though. It was more likely he had met with an unfortunate "accident". When one had enough gold, however, it was easy enough to obtain information from inside the palace. I had no doubt that with Nadir's knowledge of the inner workings of the Persian court, we would soon be able to find out what had really happened to Erik.

We arrived in Mazanderan in the early hours of the morning as the sun was rising over the distant mountains. Even though winter was already settled in for a long stay by the time we arrived, I could still see that the area would be a lush and beautiful place come spring. I suppose I had been expecting to come upon a vast desert wasteland, so I was pleasantly surprised to find such a beautiful landscape spread out all around me.

We had made arrangements to lease a small house on the outskirts of the province, so we made our way there now, uncertain as to what shape the house would be in when we arrived. Fortunately, we found that, thought it was very sparsely furnished and small, it was well maintained and in good repair. Nadir and the few servants we had brought with us quickly unloaded our belongings into the house. Once settled into a bedroom near the back of the house, I decided to rest for a while. I was very tired so it wasn't long before I was sound asleep. I slept most of the day and into the evening, and awoke feeling rested as I had not been in a long while.

When I awakened, I realized with alarm that I had slept away the entire day! I immediately got up and hurried to the small kitchen where I found Nadir preparing a meal. He turned and smiled in welcome as I entered.

"Good evening, Christiane," He said. "I trust you had a good rest."

"Yes, Uncle Etienne," I replied, smiling back. "I feel better than I have in weeks, thank you."

We sat down at a small table in the dining area and ate as Aimee, whom I had brought with me, bustled about the kitchen, cleaning up and putting things away. Nadir finally broke the silence.

"I have been in contact with an old friend from many years ago," he began as he settled back in his seat. "He confirmed that my contact in the palace has, indeed, disappeared. He has not been heard from since about the same time he sent me word that Erik had been killed." Nadir's brows were drawn together and his expression was troubled. "There is something wrong. The more I think about it, the more this whole situation worries me. I think that we should be very careful, even more so than we had originally planned. If what I am thinking turns out to be true, we could both be in grave danger, Christine. You must obey me in all that I ask of you, do you understand? We are no longer in France, dear one. Things are very different here. Erik would never forgive me either in this life or the next if I allowed harm to come to you. Not only that, I would never forgive myself. You are the closest thing to a daughter I shall ever have, and I am afraid that I have made a terrible mistake in allowing you to accompany me here."

"What is it that has you so troubled, Nadir? If we are in danger, then you must tell me so that I can be careful of it."

"I can't put my finger on it. Perhaps it is nothing, but it just seems as if things are moving along quite smoothly, don't you think? We have had no trouble whatsoever. The Shah is not a forgiving man and the khanum does not understand the concept of mercy. They know that I was with Erik in Paris; they watched me for more than a year in the hopes of catching me with him so that he could be killed. When Erik tracked down your attacker we were able to obtain the names of four others that had been hired to watch me and Erik found every one of them. Each of those men reported to someone else. News of your attack and Erik's response certainly found its way back to the Shah and khanum, probably even before Erik left for Persia. I am convinced they fully expected Erik to return here and were prepared. This is all easy to ascertain. What concerns me is that there has been no retribution for my part in all of this. I do not dare to hope that they have forgotten me. No, that is not their way. They have not forgotten and I am becoming more and more convinced that we have walked right into a trap of some sort. The only thing that bothers me is why. Why prepare a trap? Why not just send assassins and have me killed? Or, at the very least, brought back to prison to spend the rest of my life? It makes no sense!"

Nadir clenched his fists in frustration and stared out the window into the night sky as if willing an answer from the very stars. For my part, I was alarmed at the possibilities that Nadir was suggesting. Could this all be an elaborate trap? But for what purpose? If Erik were dead, what could they possibly gain by having Nadir and me embroiled in some scheme of theirs? As Nadir said, it made no sense. Even if Erik were not dead, it seemed to serve no purpose to have us here. There was, of course, the possibility that no trap existed and the Shah had simply not believed it worth the time or expense to have Nadir assassinated.

I didn't know what to make of it all, but I assured Nadir that I would be very careful, never leaving the house unless accompanied by him. We stayed up late into the night discussing possible ways to get inside the palace or get someone inside. The eunuchs that guarded the Shah's harem were notoriously easy to bribe, according to Nadir and he thought this may be a way to get information about the khanum's activities. This would likely be a good starting point, so we agreed that the first step would be to find someone from the city who would deliver messages and bribes.

I spent the rest of the evening after Nadir finally retired unpacking boxes and tidying up the small house we were staying in. I worried about what we would find now that we were here. I was so anxious that I considered trying my luck at sneaking into the palace in the dead of night, but I knew that was one of the more foolish ideas I had come up with in my lifetime, so I discarded the idea fairly swiftly after its conception. Thinking of sneaking into the palace made me think of Meg as I knew that she would have absolutely loved the idea and likely would have tried desperately to talk me into it. I smiled a little imagining Meg and her theatrics and I missed her and Madame Giry terribly. I regretted now that I had been cool with them both in the weeks before Nadir and I had departed.

I pushed thoughts of Paris and all its inhabitants from my mind as I finished up unpacking the trunk I had brought with me. I didn't know how long we would be here, and I hadn't been sure what to take, so I had brought only basic serviceable dresses that would do well in most situations. Inevitably, I ran out of things to do, so I extinguished the lamps and climbed into the narrow bed. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought again of Erik. I drifted off with thoughts of my angel of music and slept peacefully through the night for the first time in many months.

The next morning, I realized we were going to need some supplies and I asked Nadir if I could go to the market in the city. He reluctantly agreed, but he would accompany me. I dressed in the best dress I had packed and soon we were on our way, our breath coming in little bursts of fog as we climbed into the rented carriage and set out. I was like a child, looking about me in wonder at the foreign landscape as we drove down into the city.

The first thing on our agenda was to hire an interpreter as Nadir was posing as a French businessman. It was actually quite amusing when we spoke of it later and Nadir told me all they had _really_ been saying about us! We eventually found a young man who spoke French and agreed to be our interpreter for the morning. We walked the cobbled streets, bartered and traded and before long we had enough to nearly fill our carriage.

I handed Nadir the last of the packages and he set off ahead to put it into the storage area of the carriage. I followed along behind him, but found my eye caught by a window display of exotic Persian jewelry and attire. I stopped to look for a moment, the turned abruptly to catch up with Nadir, but as I did, I collided with a person, knocking all of his packages to the ground and nearly sent him sprawling. I felt the heat rising in my cheeks as I began to apologize profusely in French, never thinking that the man I had nearly bowled over may not be able to understand anything I was saying.

I bent to help him pick up his many parcels, but he stopped me, speaking in fluent French. "No, Mademoiselle, please. It is my fault! You must not concern yourself." Quickly, he grabbed a package that I had just placed my hand upon and pulled it from my grasp before I could pick it up. I straightened and watched as he gathered up the rest of his belongings.

"You speak French!" I said, when he, at last, straightened, his packages secure again.

"Oui," he said, grinning and I found myself smiling back. "You are far from home, Mademoiselle, or is it Madame?"

Had I been in Paris, I would not have deigned to respond to such forwardness, but I realized the customs may be different here and, his black eyes sparkled good naturedly as he waited for my reply. I studied him carefully before answering, assuring myself he truly meant no harm, then said, "Yes, Paris is indeed far from here." I chose not to answer his query about my proper title.

His grin grew even wider, if that were possible. He extended one hand, in proper European fashion. "I am Ahmad. I am very pleased for to meet you, Mademoiselle...?"

My, but he was persistent, I thought, trying to suppress a laugh at his impertinence. "Dubois." I replied, offering him my hand. "Monsieur, I heartily apologize for my clumsiness. I do hope you are not hurt?"

"Now that you have mentioned it, I find I may indeed be injured." His grin disappeared and his face turned grave as he regarded me.

"Oh, Monsieur! I am sorry! What can I do to help you? Here, let me call my servant and he can help you with your packages while you sit down here on this bench. Tell me where you are injured! Is there a physician nearby? Oh dear..." All thoughts of rudeness and grinning black eyes disappeared in my concern that I had truly injured the man before me. I looked around for Michel, the manservant who had accompanied Nadir and me, but he had gone on ahead with Nadir to help load the carriage, which was just around the corner. I began to look around for someone who could help when the man spoke again.

"Mademoiselle Dubois," His voice caught my attention and I turned back to him and looked into his, once again, laughing black eyes. "I fear there is nothing that can be done for my injury for it is an injury of the heart. Your beauty has so pierced it, that I am afraid I shall never recover from the damage that has been done."

I stared at him, speechless, unable to decide if I should slap him for his impertinence or laugh at his teasing. In the end, I was saved by Nadir.

"Christiane?" Nadir called, his expression alarmed. He hurried toward me, nearly running, to get to my side.

"Christiane," Ahmad said, softly, his voice caressing the word in such a manner that I could not help but blush. "It has been lovely 'running into' you, today,Mademoiselle." He reached for my hand and, grasping it, brought it to his lips before I could utter a word of protest. I felt the brush of his lips momentarily before he dropped my hand and turned to face Nadir.

"Uncle Etienne," I said, my cheeks on fire by now. "I'd like you to meet Monsieur Ahmad. I stopped for a moment to admire the jewelry in the window here and when I turned, I'm afraid I nearly ran Monsieur Ahmad down and caused him to spill all of his packages. Fortunately, he _doesn't _seem to be _injured_."

Nadir did not stop until he was directly beside me and had grasped my hand and placed it securely on his arm. He glared at Ahmad, but his words were polite enough. "Monsieur Ahmad, I am pleased to meet you. Are you certain that you are unhurt, then?"

"I am, indeed, _physically_ unhurt, Monsieur Dubois, thank you." Ahmad flashed a quick look at me as he replied and I wondered if my cheeks could possibly grow any hotter. I was embarrassed and decidedly uncomfortable, so I was grateful for Nadir's presence.

"That is good, Monsieur Ahmad. Again, I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. I would love to stay and chat, but my niece and I must be going. We wish you a very pleasant morning." Nadir steered me around the smiling Ahmad, who winked at me wickedly as we passed. I ignored him, but I could hear him laughing as we walked away toward the carriage.

Nadir held his peace until we arrived at the house. I carried in some of the packages and was about to return to the carriage to gather more when Nadir stopped me. "We must speak of this, Christine."

I sighed, not even pretending that I didn't know what he was talking about. "Yes, Uncle." I said, attempting humor to lighten the situation, but Nadir's expression did not change.

"Christine, you must not talk to strangers!" Nadir sounded much like a father scolding a young child and I couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed that all the men in my life up until now seemed to treat me that way. I forced the annoyance down, however, because I knew Nadir was only concerned about me.

"I know that Nadir," I said calmly. "Unfortunately, in this situation, I nearly ran the poor man down as he walked past me, so I had to apologize. It would have looked quite strange if I had bowled him over, then run from the scene, no?"

"I suppose it would have, but you must be careful, child. The Shah has spies everywhere and you never know if you may be talking to one of them. If they are aware of our presence, then we may be doomed anyway, but we can at least try to be prepared."

"I will be more careful, Nadir, I promise. I shouldn't have stopped to look at the jewelry, but I wasn't thinking. I am sorry."

He reached over and squeezed my hand in his. "It is forgiven. I am only worried that you will be hurt, dear one. In the future, please stay with me and if you'd like to stop and look at something, I will be happy to stop with you."

I gave him a quick hug and we went back to putting away supplies. I didn't give Ahmad another thought after Nadir and I spoke and that was just as well to me, for I thought I had seen the last of him. I didn't realize then, that it was only the beginning.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N – Hello everyone! I would like to take a brief moment of your time to thank you again for continuing to read. I realize my posts have become farther and farther apart, but I hope that you will forgive me as I am a wife, mother, full time student and I work full time as well, so it's sometimes hard to find the time to churn out these chapters. I have so many thoughts and ideas, but I have a hard time nailing them down, you know? Anyway, thank you for your patience with me. **

**I have ventured into territory with these past couple of chapters, in which I am very uncomfortable. I have never traveled to Persia and I am not at all familiar with the customs of that particular area. I have been deliberately vague in some areas, because of my unfamiliarity with the subject matter. Some people will, no doubt, believe I am committing the unpardonable sin by not researching exhaustively before even attempting to write. To those, I would say that the story itself is more valuable to me, than the factual accuracy of the minor details. I have done some minor research, but not enough to write a commentary on the culture and economics of Persia in the late 19th century. **

**So, if I am too vague for you in parts, please let me know and I will try to clarify. If I make a glaring mistake, also, please let me know. All I ask is, if you recognize the mistake, then you obviously know why it is a mistake, so please clue me in so that I will understand WHY what I've written is incorrect. **

**So, here is my 22nd chapter. I really hope you enjoy it and I will try to post again as soon as possible. **

** - C**

Chapter 22

That night as I slept, Nadir left me in the care of the servants so that he could begin his careful infiltration of the palace. I didn't know until much later how many nights Nadir had spent in the city carefully and methodically gathering information, making bribes and payoffs, spinning an ever more complex web of deception and danger. Had I realized what was in store for us both, I would have paid closer attention to his comings and goings, but I had no idea. Perhaps that was for the best.

The morning after our trip into the city, I awakened as the sun rose over the distant mountains. I arose and washed, then dressed and went into the kitchen to prepare some tea for Nadir when he awakened. I was startled by a knock on the door after I had set a pot of water to boil on the wood stove. I nearly ran to Nadir's room to awaken him, but he was, apparently, already up, for he was emerging from his room, fully dressed, just as I reached the hallway entrance. His eyes met mine briefly as he motioned for me to go back into the kitchen. I retreated at once, but stood close to the doorway so that I could hear what was being said.

Nadir opened the door to find a young boy standing there, shivering in the cold. He had a cloak about him, but not much more, and his clothing and shoes had obviously been repaired again and again. He held a small box out to Nadir and said something in Nadir's native tongue. Nadir, in keeping with his disguise, pretended that he could not understand and was about to shut the door when I heard the boy say "Christiane Dubois" with his heavy accent.

With obvious reluctance, Nadir took the box from the boy and would have closed the door again, but I stopped him this time. He turned to regard me, his eyes narrowed in disapproval. I didn't care, however, for I was not about to send this sad looking little boy back out in the cold in this manner. He was shivering from head to toe and his clothes were thin and worn, his shoes barely covering his little feet. I quickly found Michel, the manservant, and instructed him to please look and see if he had any warm clothing that would fit this little boy. If he were surprised or disapproved of my request, he hid it very well as he nodded to me and went in search of the items I had requested.

I motioned the little boy in and had him sit down while I prepared some hot tea for him to drink as he waited for Michel to return. Through pantomimes, I learned his name was Rasheed. Nadir frowned upon me from behind the boy, but I refused to meet his eyes as I continued to try to talk to little Rasheed. Michel returned with a small bundle, which I gave to the wide-eyed boy. He tried to refuse, but I insisted that he take them and use them for himself. I heartily wished that Nadir could dispense with his disguise and translate for me, but it was too dangerous, even in front of one small boy.

I would not allow Rasheed to leave until he had taken some tea and warmed himself by the fire. I put an extra cloak around his thin frame and opened the door. He carried his bundle of clothing out into the cold morning air and started down the little path back into the city. I was about to close the door to go back inside, when Rasheed turned back and ran back to the house suddenly. When he reached me, he stopped shyly in front of me, then stood up on his toes and kissed my cheek. With that, he turned and ran back the way he had come and soon disappeared over the hill.

Nadir stood in the little parlor regarding me with a forbidding look in his eyes, still holding the little box that Rasheed had brought.

"It would appear that this is for you, Mademoiselle Dubois." Nadir said. His voice did not hold a hint of sarcasm, but I felt it nonetheless. I crossed the room and took the box from Nadir's outstretched hand, curious as to what it could be. I quickly untied the bright silk ribbon and lifted the lid from the box. Inside was the jewelry I had been admiring yesterday when I ran into Ahmad. Under the jewelry, there was a note.

_Mademoiselle Dubois,_

_ Please forgive my impertinence, but after you left yesterday, I had a servant follow you so that I would know where I should deliver this package. You see, I realized that I had interrupted your admiring these beautiful pieces and thereafter, you were so enamored of me that you must have forgotten it altogether. I could not live with myself knowing that my handsome mien and quick wit had so consumed you that you missed having these wonderful pieces that would so complement your extraordinary beauty. In fact, I would highly recommend that you wear them when next we meet. _

_ Although I am certain your curiosity as well as your obvious attraction to me would have driven you to seek me out, I have decided it would be best if I make the first move as I am a gentleman and do not want so much as a single spot upon your stellar reputation. I would like to invite you to dinner tomorrow evening at my estate, which is situated not far from the palace. The address is included in the package. I suppose it is only fair that I warn you; I am a man who has become accustomed to getting his own way. I hope that you will be kind and continue to indulge my spoiled nature by accepting my invitation and my gift. _

_ Your servant,_

_ Ahmad_

I read the letter, then read it again. I found myself once again vacillating between the desire to laugh aloud and the indignation I should be feeling for his incredible rudeness. Still unsure how to take the flirtatious note, I handed it to Nadir and watched as he read it, his eyes narrowing further as he read each line.

"Of all the arrogant, impertinent, pompous..." Nadir sputtered, waving the letter in the air as he spoke. "The strutting peacock! How dare he speak to you in such a manner! Who does he think he is, the Shah himself? I will make certain he does not bother you again, Christine, you can be assured of that."

"Nadir, I found the letter quite silly, if you must know the truth. I shall simply send the jewelry back to him with a note thanking him, but regretfully declining his invitation. I will be certain that he knows I am not in the least interested in having him, or anyone else, paying suit and I am sure he will find some other poor unsuspecting female to force his attentions upon."

"I hope that he turns his attentions elsewhere, for his sake. We cannot afford any distractions or unwanted attention right now." Nadir had calmed somewhat at my words, but his tone had become ominous.

"Oh, Nadir! Surely you don't mean you will harm him in any way! He is only a silly young man who is interested in me only because I am new and different. Even if he continued his pursuit, he would eventually tire of me when another, more exotic, young lady caught his eye. Please, forget about him! I will send him a strongly worded refusal at once and get the whole thing over with." I called for Michel, then sat down to write a brief note to Monsieur Ahmad, thanking him for the gift and the warm invitation. I informed him in no uncertain terms that I was not interested in pursuing any type of relationship with him, and, in fact, had found him quite rude and impertinent. I hoped that I got the message through to him. I would hate to see anyone hurt because of our mission here.

Michel took the letter immediately, and Nadir and I settled down to have breakfast. I learned that his plan for infiltration was going quite well as he had located a particular eunuch who had a penchant for lovely jewels and had no qualms about parting with information for them. Nadir would be initiating contact with this eunuch tonight. If his bribes were accepted, Nadir would soon be party to inside information and could more easily decide where to go from there.

We talked about the palace and the guards for a while, but our conversation eventually came back around to Ahmad. Nadir was, understandably, very suspicious of his motives where I was concerned. I was certain we had heard the last of Monsieur Ahmad, but Nadir thought there would be more. I implored him not to hurt the man, whom I considered barely more than a silly boy. Nadir assured me that he would only look into who Monsieur Ahmad truly was for now. This was fine with me and I, once again, put him from my mind.

The rest of the day was spent reading, tidying up or otherwise trying to find ways to occupy myself. I practiced my scales for a while, but singing always seemed to fill me with such a longing for Erik that I found I could not continue. I wanted to help Nadir in some way, but he had made it clear to me from the very beginning that I was not to interfere. Try as I might, I could not convince him to budge so much as an inch in this. I finally gave up and went to my room to read. I heard him leave some time later. He had not come back by time for dinner, so I just had Aimee prepare a light meal for me and I ate in my room while I sat at a small desk and wrote letters to Meg and Madame Giry. Presently, I grew tired and climbed into the bed. Nadir had still not come back when I drifted off to sleep.

I learned something that would change everything the following day. After having breakfast alone, I went into the small parlor and sat down on the sofa to read. I had just settled in when Nadir entered through the front door. He came in, removed his cloak, hat and gloves, then settled in a chair opposite me with a very grave look upon his face. Frowning slightly, I laid my book aside and asked him what was the matter.

"I have been a fool. I should have seen it from the beginning, but I was concerned about you and did not pay attention as I should have. Your Monsieur Ahmad is no simple boy, Christine. He is a nephew of the Shah."

I could feel my face draining of color. I had thought he was nothing more than a shallow young man looking for his next conquest. Oh, how stupid I was! I should have realized! Nadir had tried to warn me not to talk to strangers, that the Shah had spies everywhere, but I had not listened as well as I should, had I?

"Oh, Nadir, I'm sorry!" I said, at last. "I should not have spoken to him at all and now he knows where we are staying! What will we do now? I have ruined everything for you!"

"Don't apologize, dear one. It is not your fault. I should have seen it, but it has been many years since I saw Ahmad. He was a mere boy when I was imprisoned and we had never spoken before. He was not often at court and so we were never in a position to take much notice of each other. I have spoken to my contacts and they tell me he is very close to falling out of the Shah's favor altogether. He is, apparently, too ambitious for his own good, and has disagreed with the Shah's rulings publicly. I doubt the Shah will tolerate his insolence for much longer."

"But what does all this mean for us?"

"Well, I hope that it means very little. If Ahmad is truly falling out of the Shah's good graces, it could mean that he is not privy to the Shah's confidences. If that is the case, then he, very likely, knows nothing at all about Erik or us. As unlikely as it seems, that would mean your run-in with him was simply a coincidence. On the other hand, what better way to curry favor with the Shah, than to deliver a perceived enemy into his very hands?"

We sat in silence, both of us lost in thought as we contemplated what all this could mean. I wanted nothing more than to find Erik and go home to Paris where we could, hopefully, live out our lives in relative peace. There simply had to be a way to get into the palace faster than this. If Ahmad were spying for the Shah, it was even more important that we complete our quest. I began to believe we didn't have months in which to move slowly and gradually move in. I had just opened my mouth to tell Nadir as much when a thought occurred to me.

"Nadir, you said that Ahmad was falling out of the Shah's favor, according to your sources. Surely that means that he knows nothing of us as you suggested. If he is, indeed, ignorant of the reason for our presence and of Erik altogether, then why not use his relationship with the Shah to get into the palace? I could be friendly toward him and hint that I should be very interested to learn about life in the Persian court and surely he would jump at the chance to impress me with his royal connections! It would be a perfect way for me to gain entrance to the palace and, once inside, perhaps I would see something that would help us in some..."

"Absolutely not!" Nadir stood up suddenly, his face having gone quite pale. "Christine, these people are not like the French courtesans you read about. The Shah is a very dangerous man and the khanum is even more so. They are not to be trifled with, child. You are young and naïve, my dear. No, don't look at me like that! It is true, whether you want to hear it or not. You know nothing of court intrigue; the backstabbing, the betrayal, the constant glancing over one's shoulder just to be safe. It is no place for you. I will not allow it."

I started to protest, then thought better of it and shut my mouth. Instead, I merely nodded in understanding and gazed into the fire, all the while planning how I would use Monsieur Ahmad's interest in me to get into the palace. Nadir need never know. At least not until I had found Erik. Then he would be pleased that I had broken his rule and would surely forgive my deception.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Once I had made the decision to use Monsieur Ahmad's interest in me, I had to come up with a way that I could see him without alerting Nadir as to my intentions. This was going to be particularly difficult given Nadir's past as the chief of police here. I wasn't going to let that stop me, however.

I wasn't certain how I should proceed and, frankly, I was afraid I had already ruined any opportunity I may have had by refusing Monsieur Ahmad's invitation. I decided that I would send an apology to him and I was in the parlor at the desk trying to decide what to say when there came a timid knock at the door. I glanced toward the hallway, waiting for Nadir to emerge, but when he didn't, I stood and crossed the room.

Standing on the steps in the bitter cold was Rasheed. He was bundled up in his new cloak and the too-big clothing that Michel had found for him and grinning despite the terrible cold. In his arms he cradled a large package which he held out to me as I opened the door.

"Hello Rasheed," I said. I motioned for him to come inside, but he shook his head and spoke in his native tongue. I couldn't understand, of course, but I soon realized he meant that he couldn't come in today. He was obviously in a hurry. I took the package from him and he turned and ran down the little path, turning back to grin at me once before disappearing from sight.

Shaking my head and smiling, I took the package inside and untied the tweed strings holding it together. Inside was a beautiful crimson silk dress. I held it up so that I could examine it in the light. It was probably the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. I stared at the dress in wonder for a long while before I gathered up the packaging to search for a note. As I picked up a piece of the heavy paper in which the garment had been wrapped, I discovered another, smaller package inside. I opened it and found the necklace and earrings that I had returned to Monsieur Ahmad along with a note.

_Mademoiselle Dubois,_

_ I admit I am disappointed that you have declined my generous invitation to dine with me. I worried that, perhaps, you were not as enamored of me as I had at first thought, but upon careful consideration I have realized that simply would not be possible. I determined that I should figure out the reason for your refusal and suddenly it was very clear to me. It is obvious that you must have simply forgotten to bring with you any attire that would be appropriate for a dinner party. As you can see, I have solved this problem. I will look forward to seeing you tonight at eight for dinner. _

_ Yours,_

_ Ahmad_

Reading the note, I could not suppress a slight shiver. He was quite a bit more determined than I had thought he would be. I sighed as I contemplated the gifts. To keep them and accept his invitation would be going against everything within me. Monsieur Ahmad was a very attractive man and, if our meeting had been under other circumstances and my heart had been mine to give, I would certainly have been flattered by his attentions. As it was, I could only see him as I had described him to Nadir; a silly boy. His antics were amusing and I am sure his company would enjoyable, but I was not looking forward to playing the part I had set up for myself.

I quickly gathered up the dress and called for Aimee. I gave her the dress and asked her to carefully replace it in its packaging. It was, obviously, very expensive and of the finest material and I did not want to return it to Monsieur Ahmad in less than perfect condition. I would go to dinner this evening, but I was not going to accept the jewelry or the dress.

I found I was quite nervous for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, I was not a very good liar and several times I was certain that Nadir knew something was wrong, but he didn't mention it. That evening, I had a light dinner, then excused myself to my room, pleading a headache. Nadir seemed concerned, but I assured him that all I needed was to rest. I went to my room and began getting ready for my dinner date.

I arranged the bed with pillows and pulled the blankets up over them to make it appear as if I were in there in case Nadir looked in, then I gathered up the package and notes from Monsieur Ahmad and, quietly, opened the window in my room. I tossed the package to the ground below the window, then climbed out. Fortunately, the window was large and I had little problem sliding through and lowering myself to the ground.

Standing there in the darkness, I was filled with a terrible fear suddenly. My stomach tightened painfully and, in my mind, I was transported back to that night in front of Madame Giry's cottage. I pressed myself against the wall of the house, my breath coming in short gasps as I tried to force myself to be calm. I don't know how long I stayed there, but eventually, I was able to gain some control over my fear. I stepped away from the wall and walked slowly toward the small stable located near the back of the house.

Once inside the stable, I headed for the tack room. I had never saddled a horse before, but I thought I could do it. I had seen it done often enough in the stables at the opera house. I had just entered the room when a voice behind me spoke. I whirled around and screamed, but strong hands caught me and pulled me against a solid chest. My scream was cut off by a hand over my mouth. My heart was beating wildly and I struggled with all my might, but the arms were too strong. I went limp, in an attempt to fool my captor into thinking I had fainted and only then did I begin to realize the voice was familiar.

"Mademoiselle Christiane! Please, Mademoiselle, it is I, Ahmad! I have not come to hurt you, you must listen to me!" I stiffened, listening. Ahmad? What was he doing here? I gathered my legs under me again and stood, his arms still about me, pulling me close to him.

"You are safe, Mademoiselle. I will release you now. There is no need to scream. Do you understand?" I nodded my assent and the hand was removed from my mouth. His other arm, around my waist, also loosened and I stepped away from him immediately, my hand feeling along the wall for a weapon, any weapon.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"Please forgive me, Mademoiselle! I came to offer you a ride to my home and when I saw a shadowy figure making its way from the house to the barn, I decided to investigate. I apologize for handling you so roughly, but you struggled so that I feared for your safety. Please accept my apologies, Mademoiselle. I thought only to prevent you from harming yourself in your distress."

"How long have you been here, waiting?" I frowned in the darkness, suspicion obvious in my tone.

"I had only just arrived, Mademoiselle. Please, allow me to escort you back inside the house so that you can warm yourself. You will catch cold if we linger out here."

"No!" I said, much too quickly. "What I mean is, I was on my way to the stable to saddle a horse. I have changed my mind about accepting your dinner invitation, Monsieur."

"You have?" It was his turn to sound suspicious.

"Yes." I replied. "You see, my uncle, Etienne, does not approve of me seeing any gentlemen while we are here and he has forbidden me to speak to you. I prefer to avoid confrontations and decided I would come on my own. I am old enough to make my own decisions after all." I injected just enough petulance into my tone to sound like a spoiled young lady.

"Ah, I see." I could hear the smug tone in his voice now and knew I had convinced him. "Well, Mademoiselle, I must say I am not in the business of ruining young ladies reputations. Perhaps it would be best if we simply informed your uncle of your decision and have done with it."

I knew this was not at all what he wanted and felt he was testing me. "I don't think that would be best, Monsieur Ahmad. You see, my uncle is getting quite old and his heart is weak. I would not want to put an undue amount of stress on him. I think it is best if we do not tell him just yet."

"Perhaps you are right. Still, I would not want to put you in a compromising position..."

"Oh, no, Monsieur. I assure you, I am quite old enough to be unchaperoned. Also, there is no need to involve anyone else at this point. What they don't know can't hurt them. Or my reputation." I added that last as an afterthought and I heard him chuckle in the darkness. I knew I had won, but somehow the victory was hollow. I was terrified of what I was getting myself into, but it was too late to turn back now.

Monsieur Ahmad offered me his arm and I grasped it, after gathering my parcels, and accompanied him back to his carriage. He helped me in, then climbed in and sat opposite me. We rode the short distance to his home in an awkward silence, though I could feel his laughing eyes on me throughout the ride.

When we arrived, I stepped out of the carriage and beheld what could have been mistaken for the palace itself. Ahmad's home was larger than any I had ever been inside before. Everywhere I looked there was white marble, it seemed. He led me through the entrance and past a grand curving staircase that led up to the second floor. Our footsteps echoed loudly as we walked briskly toward the back of the house.

When we reached a sitting room off a small dining room, Ahmad called for his servants and before long, I had a glass of wine in my hand. I was still clutching the package that Ahmad had sent for me, and now I turned to him and held the package out. He gazed at it for a moment, then returned his black eyes to mine, regarding me questioningly, but not reaching to take the package.

"Monsieur Ahmad, I am flattered that you would send me such a gift, but I cannot accept it. It is too much."

"Please call me Ahmad. For we are friends, are we not? And I shall call you Christiane." He took a step closer to me. "The dress is yours, _Christiane_." His voice had gone soft as he said the name.

"Mon...I mean, Ahmad, I cannot accept it. I am sorry." I saw that he was not going to take the package from me, so I laid it on a nearby settee. I stood there, sipping my wine, not knowing what else to say. I was glad when a servant came in and announced that dinner was ready.

Ahmad offered me his arm and I took it, hoping he didn't see how reluctant I was. We entered the dining room and I found it was beautifully and lavishly furnished. It was obviously for small, intimate dinners and I guessed that there was a formal dining room that would be used for larger affairs such as dinner parties.

Dinner was delicious and Ahmad's conversation very entertaining. I regretted that we had met under such dire circumstances, as I was unable to relax and enjoy the evening. When we had finished eating, we retired back to the sitting room where we were served tea. It was quite different from the tea I was used to, but still wonderful.

We talked pleasantly for a good while, and then I began to lightly question him regarding palace life. I found that he was more than willing to talk about his life and how he and the Shah did not always see eye to eye. I inquired further and he shared that he had dared to voice his disagreement over a recent ruling and was, not so subtly, informed that should he make his opposing views known in such a public way again, he would no longer be possessed of a tongue with which to make such views known. Wisely, he chose to remain silent regarding future rulings. He had still not earned back the Shah's favor, he told me, but he was not overly concerned with this. He was content to live here and come and go as he pleased rather than being summoned to wait upon the Shah at any given moment.

"Your home is very beautiful," I commented, changing the subject abruptly. "Had I not known better, I would have thought you were taking me to the palace itself."

He laughed as he set down his teacup. "I can assure you, this is a mere townhouse when compared to the palace. It is quite magnificent."

"Really? Oh, how I wish I could see it! I've never been inside a palace. I suppose I shall just have to content myself with viewing it from the outside." I tried to sound wistful and hoped I was succeeding. It wasn't too hard. I really _did_ wish I could see inside the palace.

"One should never be content, Christiane. If you would like to see the palace, then you shall see it." He stood and strode toward the door. When he reached the entrance, he turned and looked back at me, expectantly.

"You mean to go there now?" I asked, my heart leaping into my throat.

"Yes, of course. I have rooms in the palace, although it has been a while since I have made use of them. It's quite alright, I assure you. I am free to come and go as I please there, though of late, it is much better for me if I remain out of sight of the Shah. Do not look so worried! The palace is quite large and we are unlikely to even see the Shah from a distance. If we do, I will instruct you as to the proper protocol. Come now, I will have the carriage brought around."

"Are you sure you want to go there tonight? It is awfully late and I should probably be getting back as my uncle could be looking for me at any time..."

"Come, Christiane, how often does one get an opportunity to tour the palace?"

I was, by now, very torn. I wanted to go very badly, but I was terrified that Nadir would check on me and realize I was missing. I thought of Erik and my resolve strengthened. I stood and joined Ahmad by the door.

"You're right, of course. But I shall not stay very long."

"You will not be disappointed." Ahmad's eyes roamed over my body and I was sorely tempted to slap his handsome face, but held my temper in check. Instead, I smiled sweetly, if a little tightly, at him and took his arm, allowing him to lead me to the carriage. I am coming, Erik, I thought as we climbed into the waiting carriage.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

I gazed about me in complete wonder. I was awed to be standing inside the great palace of Persia. Was this the palace that Erik designed? I didn't know. I assumed that it was, unless the Shah had more than one palace. I supposed, being the Shah, he could have as many as he pleased. I wanted to ask Ahmad, but I didn't dare even speak Erik's name to him.

We strolled through the opulent halls as Ahmad pointed out various interesting features. This was where the Shah received foreign dignitaries, here was the grand ballroom designed in the European fashion which had become all the rage since the Shah had visited France several years past, there was the grand staircase leading to the second floor and beyond. We walked until my feet hurt and I admit that I gawked like a schoolgirl at my surroundings. Never before had I been surrounded by such luxuries.

Ahmad showed me the gardens briefly; it was far too cold to take a stroll through them, though I would have dearly loved to see them in the warm weather when all the exotic flowers and plants were in full bloom. As we returned from the gardens, I noticed a hallway that Ahmad had not taken me through.

"We have not gone there, Ahmad. Is that where the Shah resides?" I asked, gesturing toward the darkened hallway.

"Oh, no. The Shah's apartments are on the second floor. That hallway doesn't lead anywhere interesting. Just to the kitchens and, from there, to the dungeons."

"Really? Oh, Ahmad! I would love to see the kitchen. I enjoy cooking quite a lot and, really, it wouldn't be a complete tour unless you showed me everything.."

Ahmad glanced at me, his eyes amused. "I take you to the grandest palace in all of the Eastern lands and you ask to see the kitchens. You are truly a gem, Christiane."

I smiled sweetly at him as he guided me toward the hallway. We walked the short distance to the kitchens and I was again, taken aback by the sheer magnitude of the place. Every modern convenience to be had could be found within this kitchen and it looked as if there were at least two of everything. There were several people cleaning and what looked to be a cook dozing by a roaring fireplace. Ahmad informed me that there was always a cook available to wait upon the Shah in case he wanted anything at any hour.

We were about to leave the kitchens when I saw a closed wooden door in a far corner of the room. I asked Ahmad about it and he told me that it was the door that led down into the dungeons. I could not suppress a shiver at the thought of Erik lying down there, alone and cold, possibly injured. I had to fight an urge to tear my hand from Ahmad's firm grip and run for the door. I wanted so much to know for sure if Erik were there or not, but there was no way I could ask to see the dungeons could I? Surely that would make Ahmad very suspicious.

Forcing my eyes away from the door, I turned to find Ahmad regarding me with an unreadable expression on his face. "You are interested in the dungeon, Christiane?"

"Of course not. I am simply tired. It's getting very late, you know." I tried to smile, but I am afraid it was closer to a grimace.

"I think, perhaps, you would like to see the dungeon, no?"

"Ahmad, I told you. I am only tired and the thought of terrible criminals behind that door, so close to us was a bit frightening, that's all."

"Yes, it is a frightening thought, is it not? Come, I really think you should see the dungeons, my dear." Ahmad grasped me by the arm and began walking toward the door. I tried to pull away from him, but his grasp only tightened.

"Really, Ahmad! I must insist that you release me at once! It is late and I need to get back to my uncle before he realizes I am gone."

"Ah, Christiane, surely you can give me a few more minutes? I promise, once you've seen the dungeons, I will take you to your home." He slowed, but did not stop and I was forced to walk alongside him. When we reached the door, he pulled a key from an inner pocket, releasing me momentarily so that he could unlock the door. As soon as his grip loosened, I turned to run, but when I turned, I found myself facing two large dark skinned men, both of them uniformed and armed with swords. I turned back to Ahmad and found him gazing at me, a small smile on his handsome face.

"Perhaps you misunderstand, Mademoiselle Dubois. I have decided that I would really like for you to see the dungeon. As I stated in my letter, I am a man who is accustomed to getting his own way." Ahmad reached for my hand and placed it again on his arm as he led me through the doorway. I was nearing a state of panic as we walked down the narrow hallway.

My heart was beating wildly in my chest as we descended into the depths of the palace. The beautiful marble and stonework were gone now, replaced with hard packed dirt floor and damp stone walls. Ahead, I saw that the hallway opened up into a larger area that was lit with lanterns. When we came into the opening, I saw that there were cells on each side of the large room. The air smelled of unwashed bodies, blood and death and I quickly covered my nose with my free hand so that I would not become sick.

Ahmad kept walking, nearly dragging me along with him by now. We passed the first cells and I saw that most of them were empty. It wasn't until we reached the last cell that Ahmad came to a stop. I looked up at him, a questioning frown upon my face. He did not look at me, but gazed into the cell. I followed his gaze and saw a figure in the dark corner of the cell. I took a step closer to the bars and my breath caught in my throat. The man in the cell turned to regard me with his golden green eyes and my legs suddenly could not support me. I fell to my knees in front of the cell, Ahmad forgotten.

"Erik?" I whispered, my voice suddenly gone.

The man in the cell gazed at me, the eyes flat and emotionless. Ahmad must have moved closer to the cell, for the light from the lantern suddenly fell upon the man and I could see his features more clearly. I gasped as my eyes took in the sight of him. His face had been skeletal before, but now it was even more sunken and now, discolored. Dried blood caked his hollow cheeks and I could see his lips were cracked and bleeding. His skin was bruised and swollen in places. He had been thin before, but he was emaciated to the point that his resemblance to a corpse had never been more precise. I could see no recognition in his eyes, and I began to cry, the hot tears sliding down my cheeks unnoticed. I tried to reach him through the bars, but he was too far away.

"Erik! It is me, Christine! Can you hear me, Erik?" I grasped the bars of the cell, pressing my body against them, trying to get closer to him. "Erik, answer me, please!"

"Good evening, Monsieur. I trust you are still enjoying your stay here. You see, I have brought a guest who has been most anxious to see you." Ahmad spoke from behind me, startling me. I had completely forgotten about him when I saw Erik there!

"Ahmad? What is going on? You knew about Erik?" I asked him, confused.

"Ah, my little Christiane. As I said, you are a gem, my love. Of course I knew about Monsieur Erik. The Shah is my uncle, the khanum my grandmother. I am amazed that this has worked out so nicely. After all you had been through, I expected to have a much harder time getting you here. Your naiveté is quite refreshing."

I looked from him to Erik, still not understanding. "I don't understand. Why would you want me here? And why do you have Erik here? You must release him at once! Can't you see he is near to death? He needs help, Ahmad! You must help him!" I was nearly hysterical at this point as I stood and frantically began to look for a way to open the cell and get to Erik.

"Really, Christine, I had thought you more intelligent than this." Ahmad reached for my arm and pulled me away from the bars. I tried to wrench away from him, but his grasp was firm. He began to drag me back toward the entrance and I struggled against him.

"Erik!" I screamed as he pulled me away. We had reached the doorway when suddenly, I wrenched free and fled back down to the cell in which Erik was being held. I lowered my voice and whispered urgently, "Erik! Listen to me! You must wake up, snap out of it, whatever you have to do! You can get out of this, I know you can. You _must_ try! I love you, Erik! I love you, don't let them tell you different, do you hear me? I love you!"

I saw something in Erik's eyes, then. He started toward the bars, but the guards had their swords drawn before he could take a step. His eyes darted to them, then back to me. I heard his voice in my ear as if he stood right beside me, whispering to me alone. "I will find you." His eyes bored into mine. "Christine."

Ahmad grasped me again and yanked me to my feet. I struggled fiercely, kicking at him and trying desperately to scratch or bite or anything I could to free myself. I heard a howl of pain coming from Ahmad, then pain exploded in my head and everything went black as a guard struck me from behind.

I don't know how long I was out, but when I awakened, I was no longer in the dungeon. The room slowly swam into focus and I looked around, my head throbbing with each movement. The first thing I noticed was that the room was lavishly furnished with brightly colored divans, settees and lounges. Hanging from the ceiling were brightly colored gauzy curtains that could be drawn around each peace of furniture for privacy. I was lying on an enormous bed with the curtains surrounding it pulled back.

I tried to bring myself to a sitting position, but found that my head throbbed so that I was barely able to lift it from the pillows. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and steeled myself against the pain, then tried again. I gasped at the sharp pain that burst in the back of my head as I forced myself to sit up.

I turned as I heard a sound in the room. My vision blurred as I beheld two figures walking toward the bed I was lying on. "Ah, Christine, you are awake, my love. I am glad to see that Habib did not hurt you too badly. Do not worry, my dear one, he has been punished for his impudence."

"Ahmad, please, you must listen to me!" I implored. "I don't know why you've brought me here, but surely you can see that this is wrong. There is no need to hold me or Erik here. Let us go free and we will not speak of this again to anyone. Please, Ahmad, listen to reason." My vision slowly came into focus again and I saw Ahmad standing beside a woman who was regarding me with open hostility. She was older, but still a very handsome woman. Her black hair was more gray than black and hung down below her waist, though her head was covered in a thin transparent veil that covered her hair and face. She stared at me, her cruel eyes taking in my appearance and, apparently finding me wanting in some way, she turned away as if I no longer interested her.

Ahmad smiled at me, a cold smile. Why had I not seen the coldness in his eyes before? "Ah the way you plead for your monster is truly attractive, my dove. Tell me, Christine, how is it that you can bear his touch? I admit I am quite fascinated. Did he ever tell you that the Shah gifted him with one of the Shah's own harem girls for a wife? No, I see that he did not." He began to draw closer to me as he talked. "She was a beautiful young girl and completely untouched by man. Your beast took one look at her and offered her anything she wanted, even her freedom, to spend only one night with him. Only one! Can you imagine? The Shah would likely kill her if she refused, as the monster was still believed to be a favorite of the Shah. She chose death, poor stupid creature. She chose to die rather than lie with the beast. But you, you choose him willingly. I suppose that makes you no better than a beast yourself, but still, you are a beautiful beast." His white teeth flashed as he smiled his predatory smile at me. Instinctively, I began backing away from him. I reached the edge of the bed and threw my legs over it. As soon as my feet touched the floor, I ran. I fled to the door and found it locked. I tried to wrench it open anyway, but it was useless. I turned to find Ahmad and the woman watching me, Ahmad's face showing mild amusement.

"There is no way out, Christine. You are the honored guest of the Shah and the khanum." He inclined his head to the woman standing beside him and, for the first time, I saw a slow smile spread across her face as she saw the horror written upon mine. I pressed myself against the door, my eyes upon them both as my eyes filled with tears again. "Yes, my love, this is the khanum. She has been very anxious to meet you."

"Please, Ahmad. I am begging you. I will do whatever you ask, if you will only free Erik." I fixed my eyes upon his and pleaded silently that he would have compassion.

"That is very touching, my gem, and you beg so prettily, too. What you fail to understand is that you will do whatever we ask regardless of the beast's state of release or incarceration. Sadly, you have nothing with which to bargain."

"He is not a beast!" I shot at him venomously. "_You_ are the beast, Monsieur."

I saw the anger flash in his eyes and he took a step toward me, but he was stilled by the khanum's hand on his arm. She spoke a few words to him that I could not understand and he responded angrily, but subdued. I could see that he deferred to her.

The khanum approached me, then, and stopped just in front of me. Her eyes roamed over me, taking in every inch of me, contempt showing plainly in her expression. I stared back at her, defiantly. When she had completed her appraisal, she returned to Ahmad's side and spoke quietly to him. He nodded and clapped his hands twice. Two large men appeared from separate corners of the room. I had been so intent on Ahmad and the khanum I had not noticed there was anyone else in the room.

The bare-chested men approached me from either side and I immediately tried to run, but they were much quicker than their size would suggest. I knew that struggling was useless, but I struggled anyway, not knowing what they intended for me. I was dragged back to the bed, where one of the men held me while the other grasped the bodice of my dress, ripping it down the front. I screamed and doubled my efforts to escape, but it was to no avail. They continued until I stood there, naked and pleading with them, unable even to cover my nakedness.

As I was held by one of the men, several servants entered carrying a large tub which they then began to fill with water, pitcher by pitcher. When the tub had been filled, I was carried to it and nearly dumped inside. Several female servants had entered the room and they went about the business of bathing me. I tried to get up several times, but each time I rose, one of the two large men would shove me back down into the water. All of this was supervised closely by Ahmad and the khanum.

When the servant girls had finished bathing me, I was picked up bodily from the tub and dried off, then taken back to the bed where a new outfit had been laid out for me. There was a set of red silk pantaloons, or what looked like pantaloons anyway, and a blouse that would barely cover my breasts. I was forcefully dressed in these clothes and I wondered if I felt more naked in them than I had when I had been truly naked. I cried and begged Ahmad for mercy all the while, but he only laughed his good humored laugh.

Once I had been dressed, made up and perfumed in a manner in which I imagined would be consistent with any common whore, Ahmad clapped his hands again and all of the servants disappeared except for the two large guards. The khanum walked toward me slowly, her gaze holding mine.

"You beg for mercy. You shall have no mercy. Your beast will see your shame. He will watch your ruin. Then I put you in the glass chamber he made for me. He will see you suffer and die. I think this is his reward for his crimes." Her broken French was heavily accented, but I understood all too well what she meant.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

I stood there glaring into the eyes of the khanum. I had never been so enraged nor so terrified in my life. Suddenly, the khanum reached out and slapped me. Pushed beyond all sanity by now, I screamed in rage and threw myself on her. I was satisfied to hear a screech of surprise before I began raining blows on her. I was determined to get in all the damage I could before the guards dragged me off her. I hit, bit, kicked and scratched until I was dragged bodily from her. I was pleased to see that her lip was cracked and bleeding and I was fairly certain she would awaken with a black eye in the morning. That was in addition to the many scratches on her face and neck.

I quickly learned that I was not the only one enraged. The khanum climbed to her feet, her eyes filled with a terrible rage. I knew retribution was coming and I welcomed it. I lifted my chin and glared at her defiantly as one of the guards pinned my arms behind my back. I didn't know how long I could hold on to my defiance in the face of whatever punishment she would devise for me, but I drew it about me now as one would don protective armor. The khanum's breathing was ragged and I expected that I would die right then and there, so great was her fury. She approached me and spat out quick orders to the guards, then, to my surprise, turned on her heel and stalked from the room.

The guard that held me dragged me back to the bed and threw me down upon it. The other guard had approached from the other side of the room and now they both held me down while Ahmad tied my wrists and ankles securely to the bed. Though I struggled, I knew it was only a token gesture. I could not escape. Once I was secured, the guards went back to their corners and I lay there in stunned surprise. I knew it was not possible that my attack on the khanum would go unpunished, but I was completely taken aback by her apparent restraint. The sheer volume of her hatred for Erik was becoming clear to me. It seemed that she was willing to wait and have her revenge on both of us at the same time. Or perhaps she was only toying with me. I didn't know and that, possibly, was worse than a swift punishment.

I turned my head on the pillows and the tears once again began to fall from my eyes. The utter hopelessness of the situation pressed upon me. I had Erik's promise that he would find me, but I realized that it would not be possible for him to escape. He was weak and injured. Erik, I'm so sorry, I thought as I fought to hold back my sobs.

"You should not have attacked the khanum, my beautiful flower." Ahmad's voice was soft and I turned my head toward the sound. He stood beside the bed looking down on me an expression of deep pity on his face as he regarded me. "You are right to cry, for your crime will not be forgotten. I admit that it was very entertaining, but sadly, it will cost you dearly."

Ahmad sat down on the bed and placed his hand on my leg, caressing my thigh. I shuddered and he smiled tightly at me. "You shudder at my touch? Ah, but that is right. I am far too handsome, too _human_ for your tastes, am I not? Your tastes run more to beasts. How could I have forgotten? It is no matter, though. Soon I will show you what it means to be touched by a man, my dove."

"He is not a beast," I said as my tears ran down my face and spilled onto the pillow. "Somewhere deep inside you must know that. There must be some part of you that realizes how wrong this is, Ahmad! Surely there is mercy within your heart, perhaps buried, but there nonetheless." I tried to keep the desperation from my voice.

"I wonder, my precious jewel, are you really as innocent as you seem? It seems so unlikely, but I believe it is so. Really, your innocence is what made all of this so easy, you know. The khanum wanted to bring you here immediately once we had the beast safely imprisoned, but I knew that was not the way to go about it. The khanum lacks patience, you see. She craves wanton violence. I, on the other hand, feel that one can enjoy one's victory much better if it has been won over time. Like fine wine, vengeance should age and grow more...refined. I almost pitied you at times, you know. Poor Christine, you thought you were going mad, no? You wondered if your mind played tricks on you when you saw the beast in darkened corners or in a crowd of people. How I loved to watch your face during those times! You looked so hopeful as you searched frantically for it, then the disappointment when you didn't find it. I hoped that Nadir would soon confess the beasts last known location to you and he did not disappoint me. It is a shame that he is dead. He was very useful to us."

"Dead? Nadir is...you killed Nadir? YOU are the beast! Erik is more a man than you could ever hope to be! He will kill you for this!" I had begun sobbing in earnest then. The thought that they had killed Nadir was too much to bear. It was all my fault! I should have known better than to trust Ahmad. Oh Nadir!

Ahmad reached out and stroked my cheek gently. I tried to pull away, but it was no use. There was nowhere I could go. "My poor Christine. It has all been too much for you, hasn't it? I admit that I would like to keep you for my own. It is such a waste to kill you. Perhaps I will ask the khanum for you. As long as the beast believes you to be dead, that would be enough, surely." Ahmad looked at me while I sobbed for several minutes, then he stood. "Well, you have a long day ahead of you. I will leave you to your rest. Enjoy it while you can, my beauty."

I paid him no heed and eventually I heard the door close as he left the room. I lay there crying softly until I must have fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion. I don't know how long I was actually asleep, but I was awakened by a loud commotion coming from outside the door. I began trying desperately to loosen my bonds, sensing this may be an opportunity to escape. My wrists were sore and my muscles fairly screamed in protest as I pulled and twisted first one direction, then the other. I had just realized this was not going to work when the door burst open and the khanum ran inside, her face a mask of terror and, just under the surface, insanity. The two guards came forward immediately, swords drawn as she shouted orders to them. One of them grasped my hands and held me still while the other untied the ropes holding me. When I was free, one guard picked me up and carried me, following the khanum as she ran to a section of the wall and felt around until she found some switch or plate that I could not discern. I heard a click and the wall slid open and she hurried down the darkened passageway, the guards following close behind with me.

The passageway led down and the air became damp and cool, as it had been in the dungeon. We came to a small chamber with stone walls and stopped there. There was a door on the opposite wall and the khanum was frantically searching for a release, I assumed for there was no knob on the door. I could see that her hands were shaking. What was going on, I wondered.

The guard that had been carrying me set me down on my feet, but held me tightly against his body, assuring I couldn't move. I heard the khanum give a cry of triumph as the door opened. Light poured out from beyond the door, nearly blinding me in its intensity. She shouted to the guard holding me and he shoved me forward into the room. The door slammed shut behind me and I turned, but the door was gone. I looked around in a panic and barely registered that I was in a mirrored chamber. There was a single tree in the chamber, but it was reflected thousands of times, making it seem as if it were a forest. I looked down and noted that even the floor was made of mirrored glass! I reached up to wipe perspiration from my brow and suddenly realized how incredibly hot it was in here. This must be Erik's torture chamber. I had never seen it, but I knew that this must be it. I tried to think clearly, but the heat was unbearable. I beat my fists upon the mirror that I thought had been the door and screamed, but I could hear nothing from the other side. I continued my futile beating for a good while before my arms grew too tired to continue.

I began a circuit of the room, feeling along the mirrored walls for some kind of switch or opening, anything that would provide a way out. The mirrors were growing hotter as the minutes passed and it was soon all I could do to continue touching them. My feet were beginning to blister in the heat, so I sat down and began ripping at the pantaloons that I was wearing. I managed to pull several strips of cloth from them and wrapped my feet. Standing, I realized the cloth would not relieve the burning for long. I doubled my efforts, moving as fast as I could.

I went around the chamber again and again, calling for help, feeling everywhere for any kind of release or latch. I found nothing, and grew more and more frantic. I tried to calm myself and think methodically. There had to be a way out. Surely there was, just in case someone was locked in here by mistake. I dropped to my knees and crawled along the floor, feeling along where the mirrors met. My hands were soon bleeding from numerous cuts I sustained feeling along the edges of the mirrors. I ignored the pain and kept looking, refusing to give up.

My skin grew red and my hair clung to me as the perspiration poured from my body. The clothing I had on was drenched, but it brought no relief. My mouth grew dry and the heat began to sap my energy. I sank to the floor, exhausted. I found my eyes drawn to the barren tree. I had not noticed it before, but now I could see the noose that hung from the limbs. I felt as if my body were on fire now and the walls and floor were burning my skin through the clothing. There was no escape from the terrible heat. I don't know how long I stayed there in that position, staring intently at the rope that hung from that horrible tree. It may have been minutes or hours. I had no way of knowing.

I heard someone calling my name and tried to answer, but my throat was so parched I could no longer make any sound. I tried to stand, but my body refused to obey. I tore my eyes from the rope and turned my head toward the sound and saw a figure standing near the tree. I blinked to clear my blurred vision and saw that it was my father. He held his violin in one hand and with the other, he beckoned me. He was not parched like I was and I noticed that behind him I could see a cool spring bubbling.

"Papa?" I croaked, barely making a sound. He smiled at me, the same special smile that was only for me. I would have cried, but my tears were gone. I tried to smile back at him. He held out his hand to me, and I began to crawl toward him.

"Christine!"

I stopped, frowning slightly. "I am coming Papa," I tried to say, but could not make the words leave my throat. I pushed to my feet slowly, each movement excruciating. I took one unsteady step toward him and nearly collapsed again, but I was determined to make it to him.

"Christine, no! You must listen to me now!"

I frowned again, feeling torn. Someone was calling me. I turned and looked behind me, but no one was there. I turned back and my father was still standing before me. He was so close! He no longer held the violin, but a rope in his hands. He held it out to me. I pushed everything else out of my mind and concentrated on him, taking another painful step toward him.

"You must find the panel, Daroga! Quickly!" The voice ceased to hold any interest for me as I reached my father. I took the rope from his outstretched hand and looked at him questioningly. He gestured toward the tree. I looked from him to the rope and back to the tree, not understanding.

"You must place the rope around your neck, my love. That's a good girl. Soon we'll be together again. Papa loves you, Christine. Come to me now." Papa spoke in his lovely melodious voice and I obeyed him without question, longing for his arms and that cool stream behind him.

"Here it is! Quickly, now I will help you!" Those pesky voices again nagging at the back of my consciousness.

Once I had the rope around my neck, I looked to Papa for guidance once again. Through gestures, he indicated that I was to climb the tree. I looked at the tree and saw that the limbs were low so that I could easily reach them. I was not certain that I could pull myself up, however, but my determination remained in full force. I placed one hand on the bottom limb of the tree and the other on a limb slightly higher. I put one foot on the trunk of the tree and pushed myself up. I found the strength to climb into the lowest branches and looked back to my father who still stood by the tree. He pointed up and I knew that I must climb higher. My limbs were trembling from exhaustion now , but I reached again for a higher limb and began to pull myself up even farther.

I heard sounds coming from somewhere. I couldn't make out exactly which direction and I pushed the thought away. It didn't matter. Soon I would be with my papa and all would be right again. I climbed higher and higher until I had nearly reached the top of the tree. I looked down and saw myself reflected from far away. I looked to my papa again and he told me that I should tie the other end of the rope securely to the large limb that I now sat upon. I did as he commanded, making sure the rope was secure before I looked back to him.

My father held out both arms to me and smiled. "Now jump to me, my love! Papa will catch you! Jump!" I knew a moment of fear, as my mind went back to when I was five. I had climbed into a tree outside our house and didn't know how to get back down. I had been crying and screaming for Papa for what seemed like hours, but he finally came. He had tried to suppress his amusement when he saw my predicament. He had guided me until I reached the lower branches, then he had held his arms out to me and told me to jump. I had been too terrified, but he had insisted and, finally, because I loved my papa more than anything else in the world, I had jumped. I had expected to land hard on the ground, but Papa's strong arms had come around me and caught me. "You see Christine?" He had said, laughing. "You can always trust your papa. I will always catch you when you fall, my little sparrow."

I gathered myself and glued my eyes to Papa's and just as I pushed myself off the branch, the mirrored wall seemed to burst and two figures ran in. I fell into my papa's arms and everything went blessedly black.

A/N: I would like to take just a minute to thank all of you who have been reading and especially those of you who are reviewing. I'm sure you all know this is my first fanfiction ever, so I really appreciate you all taking the time to read and review. It is so important to me and, if I could, I'd send flowers to every one of you!! Your support is priceless. Thank you all again and keep reading! Drop me a PM if there is anything in particular you'd like to discuss. Thanks! :)


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

The only clear memory I have of the weeks following my rescue from the mirrored chamber is that of nearly unbearable agony. I swam in and out of consciousness each time awakening to pain worse than any I had ever imagined and it was everywhere. When I was clearheaded enough to make observations I realized that every part of my body was completely wrapped in bandages, even my hands and feet. I was mercifully unconscious during most of that time.

It was only much later that I found out all that had transpired the night Ahmad took me to the palace. I learned that Nadir was not as blind to my duplicity as I had imagined. He had immediately suspected that I was up to something, and he did not trust Ahmad in the slightest, so he and Michel were prepared that evening when Ahmad's assassins made their move. When they had dispatched the two men sent for Nadir, he and Michel set out for Ahmad's home only to realize that we had just climbed into the carriage and were preparing to leave.

They followed us, but when he realized where we were headed, Nadir knew he would need more men than Michel, so he left Michel to watch at the palace while he went to his contact's home within the city. When Nadir returned, he had four other men with him whom he trusted to be stealthy and efficient.

Nadir and his men gained entrance to the palace through bribery of his already established contacts. The first place they checked was the dungeon, as that seemed the most obvious place for Ahmad to have put me. They had just entered the dungeon and were ready for any guards that may be stationed there. What they didn't expect was an Angel of Death.

After Ahmad dragged me from the dungeon, Erik had begun planning his escape. He knew he would only have one chance, so he took his time. He reached over and picked up the moldy bread the guard had thrown into the cell earlier, which Erik had refused. Now, he knew he needed his strength, so he forced himself to eat several bites of the bread, washing it down with the nearly stagnant water also provided. When he had finished he stood and walked to the bars and looked out at the guard. Fixing his strange golden eyes upon the guard, he began to speak.

When Nadir and his men entered the dungeon, they beheld a figure in black, crouched over what looked to be a guard lying stretched out on the floor. The figure stood up and turned to face the men, slowly, unhurried, almost casually. When the men with Nadir saw the face of this man in black, it was only because of Nadir's unusual response to this stranger that they did not run screaming from the dungeon.

Nadir readied himself for a fight as the black clad figure rose slowly from his kill. His breath caught in his throat, however, when he saw the skeletal face glaring at him from the darkened corner of the dungeon.

"By Allah!" Nadir exclaimed, rushing forward. "Erik!" He nearly embraced Erik then and there, but he stepped back, eying the blade Erik clutched in his hand that was now covered in the drying blood of the guard.

"Daroga, how good of you to come and visit me. Unfortunately, you've caught me on my way out. Perhaps we can visit another time?" Erik's voice was weary, but he had, apparently not lost his flair for the sarcastic.

"You flatter yourself. I'd leave your carcass to rot, but Christine has been taken by the Shah's nephew and we have come to free her." As Nadir said "we", his heart leaped into his throat. All at once he realized that Erik's face was unmasked and he whirled around to see if his men were still there. Thank Allah, they had not moved, but it looked as if they might bolt at any moment. Nadir quickly moved to diffuse the situation, introducing Erik and trying to put the men at ease, though it was nearly impossible to do so.

Erik, impatient with Nadir's attempts to coddle the men, shoved past them and started up the passageway to the kitchens. Nadir hurried to catch up with him, Michel and the others close behind.

"Erik, wait! You cannot simply walk through the palace, you'll be killed before you ever reach Christine!" Nadir spoke in a whisper, not wanting to arouse any unwanted attention if he could help it.

Erik barely spared him a glance as he continued up the passageway. "You have forgotten much, Daroga. I designed this palace. Do you not think I was prepared for the possibility that I may have to come and go unnoticed at times? There are secrets within this labyrinth that the Shah himself knows nothing of. If you insist on following me, then I shall have to insist that you be a bit quieter. Perhaps you could convince the herd of elephants behind you to keep it down as well?"

Nadir had to bite back a sharp retort, but he did as he was bid, following behind Erik as he made his way up the long passageway. Presently Erik stopped before a section of stone wall. He reached out and placed his hand on one of the stones and pushed. A grinding sound filled the passage as a stone door swung inward. Erik quickly stepped into the darkness behind the newly created doorway and beckoned Nadir and his men inside. The darkness was profound before Erik lit a lamp he'd placed just inside the entrance.

The men hurried along the passageway, taking one turn after another, following Erik. At last they reached a doorway at which Erik stopped. He motioned for silence as he listened quietly at the door. He doused the lamp and pressed the plate that caused the door to swing open, this one silently. He stepped out into a darkened hallway and was set upon by several guards almost immediately. Nadir and his men rushed out of the opening and engaged the guards, trying to dispatch them as quickly and quietly as possible. One of the guards fell dead before he'd even reached Erik, his head at an odd angle. Erik reached down and disentangled the rope from around the guards neck and, as quickly as it had appeared, the rope was gone. Nadir would never get used to that, he guessed. He wondered briefly where Erik had gotten the rope, but he thought that perhaps it was better left unanswered.

The scuffle that ensued was quick, but not as quiet as they had hoped, for the khanum and Ahmad heard it from Ahmad's chambers, where they had been arguing over my fate. They rushed to the door and the khanum flung it open just in time to see Erik dispatch another guard. His eyes fixed upon hers and held her there as he started toward her. Fortunately for her, Ahmad rushed out at that moment and challenged Erik, allowing her a chance to run.

Erik ignored the young man before him, intent upon his prey, the khanum. Ahmad drew the sword that he wore on his side and advanced toward Erik. Annoyed at having been delayed, Erik turned to face Ahmad. The nephew of the Shah nearly wet his trousers when he was face to face with the one he had so flippantly called "the beast" to me earlier. Ahmad did not realize how weak Erik truly was or he would certainly have pressed his advantage, as he would be no match for Erik if they were both well rested. As it was, his fear of Erik's face is what cost him his life. He thrust clumsily at Erik with his sword and Erik sidestepped easily, closing the distance between them. Ahmad swung again, terrified of the skeletal visage that now was almost upon him. Again, Erik stepped easily out of harm's way. As he reached out for Ahmad, his deformed lips parted in a humorless grin. The sword fell from Ahmad's lifeless fingers as he began to shriek.

Erik grasped Ahmad's head and quickly snapped his neck, effectively cutting off the shrieks. The effort was almost too much for him as he slumped against the wall and watched as Ahmad's lifeless body hit the floor in front of him. Suddenly, Nadir was there, helping him up, bracing him as he stood. There was no time to lose. They started down the hallway after the khanum.

Erik knew where the khanum's private chambers were and he guessed that is where she would have taken me if she intended to force him to watch as I was tortured. Nadir and Erik burst into the room just as the khanum and the two guards returned from throwing me into the chamber. The secret door was no longer visible.

The rope was around the khanum's neck before either of the guards could make a move to protect her. As it was, Nadir's men had dispatched the two large men within moments. Erik gave a quick jerk and the khanum fell to her knees before him.

"Where is she?" He asked, his voice deceptively soft. He released the rope enough to allow the khanum to answer.

"She is dead! You have killed her!" The khanum glared up at Erik, then began to laugh madly. Erik gave another flick of his wrist and the khanum's laughter was cut off abruptly as she clawed at the rope around her neck. Erik watched as she fought for air, then he loosened the rope once more, just before she lost consciousness.

"The mirrored chamber!" The khanum gasped, her voice a hoarse whisper. Erik flicked his wrist again and there was a sickening snap as the khanum's neck gave way. She fell, lifeless, to the floor and he quickly removed the rope from her neck, then looked around the room for the two-way mirror that would allow him to gaze down into the torture chamber. He quickly found it, and saw that what the khanum had said was true.

That is when I heard his voice calling to me, though I was too far into the hallucination by then to heed it. While Nadir searched for the switch to open the secret door, Erik tried in vain to get my attention. He was forced to watch helplessly as I slowly and methodically climbed the tree and began to secure the rope before Nadir finally found the switch. They sprinted down the passageway and flung open the chamber door to find me preparing to leap from the the limb upon which I was standing now. Erik called out to me and ran in a burst of energy. He reached me just as I took the plunge. He caught me, but the rope was shorter than he'd anticipated and it jerked my neck nearly to the point of breaking. With Nadir's help, Erik was able to cut me down.

Michel carried me to safety while Erik and Nadir went in search of the Shah. Erik knew several secret passages to the Shah's private chambers that even the Shah wasn't aware of. I don't know what happened when they finally found him; Erik will not speak of it, but I learned later that it was widely reported that a Babi insurgent had had the Shah assassinated that night. It was reported that the khanum as well as the Shah's nephew were killed in the attack. A mad scramble for power soon ensued and the inquest into the death of the Shah was all but forgotten.

We are all very fortunate to have escaped with our lives that night. I see now how foolish I was to think that I could handle Ahmad alone. If it had not been for Nadir sensing that I was up to something and then finding Erik, things would have turned out far differently.

As it was, we returned to the house Nadir and I had occupied long enough to gather our personal belongings and ready the carriage, then began our long journey home. I had still not regained consciousness and Erik was becoming more and more concerned about the extent of my injuries. We traveled through the remainder of the night and most of the morning before Erik decided we must find an inn and see to my injuries. We came upon a small village near the Caspian Sea and Nadir procured rooms for us at a modest inn.

Erik disappeared until after we were settled in, then nearly caused Nadir to have a heart attack when he stepped out of the shadows of my room. After examining me carefully, Erik determined that I had sustained burns over most of my body with the worst being on my feet, legs, arms and back. Those are the parts of my body that had come into contact with the searing mirrored surfaces. The rest of the burns were more consistent with a blistering sunburn and would heal fairly quickly. My neck, on the other hand, had sustained quite a bit of injury. When I had leaped from the tree, Erik had only just made it under me in time to break my fall, but the rope was shorter than he had anticipated and it had very nearly snapped my neck despite his being there to catch me. Once he had inspected the injuries more closely, however, Erik determined that there would be no permanent damage to my neck or spine and that I should be able to make a full recovery.

We remained in the inn for nearly two weeks as I was unable to travel during this time. Erik bandaged me from head to foot to protect my burned skin, changing the bandaging regularly to prevent infection. He kept me sedated, knowing that I would be in unbearable pain from the burns, so I remained unconscious throughout the entire two weeks.

At last Erik decided that my recovery was progressing well enough that we could continue our journey. We continued along the route that Erik had determined would be the safest. Of this journey, I have very little memory. Each time I swam up into wakefulness, pain would overwhelm me and Erik would administer more of his foul tasting medicines and I would retreat back into my dream filled sleep.

It wasn't until we reached Marseilles that I was able to remain awake for any length of time. Even so, I still retained very little of what was said to me during that time. I would awaken and ask Erik what happened and he would patiently tell me only to have to do the same thing the next time I awakened. Despite my memory lapses, I seemed to be improving physically, so we continued the journey from Marseilles to Paris.

We reached Paris at last and were met by Madame Giry and Meg who helped get me settled back into my townhouse. I was still heavily sedated, so Meg decided to stay at my home to help care for me while I recovered. I had traveled all the way from Persia back to Paris without contracting a single infection, but not long after we arrived in Paris, I developed a bad infection that nearly claimed my life despite Erik's best efforts. Looking back, I suppose that it's rather ironic that I should travel all that way and continue to improve against all the odds, then come the closest to death once I had reached my destination and was finally "safe".

Erik later told me that it was fortunate that I had developed the infection once we reached Paris rather than on our journey as I would certainly have died if we had still been traveling. Even so, Erik maintains that he came to within a hair's breadth of losing me despite having access to the finest doctors to be had in Paris. I was darkly amused to learn that even Raoul had come to say his final goodbyes once when doctors assured Madame Giry that I would not survive the night.

I did survive, however, and I think it is because my heart simply refused to accept that, after all we had gone through, Erik and I were to be denied our chance at love. During those weeks of darkness and delirium, it was his voice that held me steady and brought me back time and time again. When the pain came, his voice soothed me, washing away the pain and lulling me back into my deep dreamless sleep. It was his love for me that carried me through and pulled me back from the very edge.

Winter had at last loosened its grip and the green smell of spring was just beginning to tinge the air when I opened my eyes, my thoughts clear for the first time in many weeks. I turned my head on the pillow and found Erik, asleep in my chair beside the bed. Tears sprang to my eyes because I knew he had been with me the whole time, never leaving my side for more than a few minutes. I smiled weakly as I drifted back to sleep.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

When at last I awakened from my long illness, I spent many weeks recovering. The burns left me scarred on my legs and back, but there was no scarring on my arms or face. The worst part of the whole ordeal, for me, was getting my voice back. At first, I was unable to speak above a whisper and had to gradually build up my voice, which was incredibly frustrating. I was horrified by the thought that I may never be able to sing again, at least not like I had before, and that drove me more than anything else to work hard and regain my voice.

Through those difficult weeks Erik was my constant companion. I marveled that I had once allowed fear to rule me when I was in his presence. Now his presence brought me immeasurable comfort. It was odd, but he always seemed to know exactly what I needed before I could even ask.

Nadir came to visit me often, sitting with me and holding my hand, or telling me wonderful exotic stories and, when I was well enough, playing chess with me like we had in Boscherville and at Madame Giry's before that.

Meg and Madame Giry also visited, Madame more than Meg who now had a suitor. His name was Alexandre and, according to Meg, he was the handsomest man ever to grace the planet. I smiled and listened to her go on and on about how wonderful he was, often catching Erik's eye over her shoulder, then having to repress my giggles as he rolled his eyes theatrically or pantomimed fainting at the descriptions of Alexandre's complete and utter perfection. Despite the fact that I was still very weak and recovering, I thought that I had never been so happy before.

Finally, I had regained my strength sufficiently that Erik deemed me well enough to take short walks in the garden, which I took full advantage of. Erik was uncomfortable walking during the day, so we walked in the cool of the evening, when the sun began its daily descent. These short walks were precious to me, because it was just Erik and me. We talked about everything, it seemed, but the one thing that I wanted to talk about; our relationship. Erik had never been so open with me before and I dared not interrupt him when he began speaking of his past for fear he would realize that he was being _too_open and close up again. He still had his odd quirks, such as glaring daggers at Nadir if he so much as held my gaze for too long. Raoul sent me flowers and a lovely card, which I might add were from Claudia as much as they were Raoul, but Erik insisted that Madame Giry remove the offending blooms from my room before I could even smell them! He refused to argue with me over these little things, insisting he was only protecting me. I learned to just roll my eyes and go on as if everything were perfectly normal.

There was the occasional scare, such as when the gardener dared to compliment me on how well I was looking. Erik's lasso appeared in his hand and he was just about to lash it around the poor unsuspecting gardener's neck as he walked away, but, fortunately, I saw the rope appear and quickly pretended to nearly faint. The gardener was forgotten as Erik swept me up into his arms and carried me back to my room. That disaster averted, I instructed Madame Giry to please dismiss that particular gardener with a large enough bonus that he could take a long vacation, perhaps in another country. Unfortunately, now I had to look for another gardener. I suppose one can't have everything.

Now that I was well on my way to being fully recovered, my mind began to turn to other things, such as the state of my relationship with Erik. Since I had awakened, he had been by my side, making certain I had everything I could possibly need. We had passed many hours just talking. I told him about all that had taken place since he left for Persia. He was, understandably, upset when I told him exactly which house Raoul had purchased. I told him about all that had happened there and explained to him how we came to believe he was dead. His fists clenched and his body stiffened when I told him how Ahmad had cunningly deceived me into believing I may be going mad, then lured me to his home and finally the palace where he attempted to imprison me. I was glad Ahmad was already dead, for Erik surely would have returned to Persia immediately to kill him had he not been!

It was then that Erik filled me in on all that had happened while I had been imprisoned and then unconscious. I was amazed that any of us had made it out of Persia with our lives. I shuddered to think of all the things that could have gone wrong. It made me even more determined to confront Erik very soon about our relationship. Knowing Erik, I knew it was going to be up to me to bring it up.

One evening in late summer as Erik and I were walking, I screwed up my courage. I sat down on a little bench under a large shade tree and patted the seat beside me, indicating that I would like him to sit by me. He complied and we sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the late evening breeze. Finally, I turned to look at him. His face was masked, as always, and I wished I could convince him to take it off and get some fresh air, but I knew it would be useless to ask. I opened my mouth to speak, but I didn't know where to start, so I closed my mouth again and looked out over the garden, methodically going through what to say in my head, discarding one approach after another. I nearly jumped out of my skin when Erik spoke beside me.

"Christine, there is something that I have been wanting to discuss with you."

"Yes, Erik?" I said, turning to face him, blushing slightly as his golden gaze fixed intently upon my face.

"I have given much consideration to our current living arrangement and I have come to realize that it is not at all appropriate for me to be staying here with you, a young, unmarried woman, unchaperoned."

I'm not certain what I expected, but that certainly wasn't it. I tried to hide my disappointment as I replied, "Erik, surely you realize that I don't care what people may think..."

"You may not care, but _I_ do. I will not allow your reputation to be besmirched. You have made it clear that you dislike when I kill people, so the only reasonable solution is to keep them from gossipping about you in the first place, then I will have no cause to end their miserable existences, and _you_ will have no cause to pretend fainting in order to prevent it."

I blushed deeply at that. How could he _know_ that? "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. Anyway, I am not concerned with what other people think of me. They can be hanged for all I care." I tried Raoul's phrase on for size.

"Well, hanging is an option, I suppose..."

"I wasn't _serious_, Erik!" I looked at him in alarm.

"I was teasing, Christine." He said softly and I relaxed. He stood, then and, taking my hand drew me up to stand in front of him. "I am not like other men, Christine. You know that better than anyone. Things will never be between us as they are for normal people, but I want to be as normal as we possibly can. That is why I cannot stay here with you..."

I interrupted him, panic rising within me. "No, don't leave, Erik, please. There is no reason you can't continue to stay here just as you have been..."

He held one gloved hand up to stop me. "I will not continue to stay here just as I have been. That is what I'm trying to tell you, Christine, if you will only allow me the opportunity to finish!"

I could hear the mild irritation in his voice and I subsided, miserable inside at what I knew was coming. "I'm sorry, Erik. Please continue." I could feel the sting of tears behind my eyes, but I fought against it, not wanting him to see me cry over this.

"What I'm trying to say is simply this," Erik took both of my hands into his, then he knelt before me on one knee. He reached into an inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a small box which he offered to me as he continued to speak. "Mademoiselle Daae, will you honor me beyond all that I have ever imagined or believed I could have, by agreeing to be my wife?" With only a slight movement, the box in his hand disappeared and in its place there was a single red rose. Nestled within the petals was the most beautiful diamond ring I had ever seen.

My hands flew to my mouth as tears spilled down my cheeks. I couldn't speak and could barely breathe as I stood there before him. I was afraid to reach for the rose and Erik must have misread my reaction for he stood abruptly and took a step backward, his eyes filled with hurt and a terrible resignation. The spell was broken then and I moved quickly before he could retreat further. I threw my arms around him and hugged him fiercely.

"Yes, Erik, I will marry you!" I cried before I kissed him hard. His tears mingled with mine as his arms went around me, pulling me close. "Oh, Erik I thought you'd never ask!" I said into his neck as I clung to him.

I heard a throat clearing behind us in the garden and I whirled to see Nadir standing there along with Madame Giry, Meg and her new beau Alexandre, Raoul and Claudia, Michel, Aimee and an older priest. I looked back to Erik, my astonishment evident on my face.

"I was going to simply hire the priest and have him come here and marry us, but Nadir informed me that women like to be _asked_ first rather than simply dragged in front of a priest and informed it's time to get married."

"Oh, Erik! This is wonderful!" I smiled at him through my tears, happier than I had ever been.

"Meg will help you into your wedding dress, if you'll accompany her back to your room, my dear."

I turned and found Meg standing behind me, beaming. She took me by the arm and we walked back into the house and up to my room where I discovered there was, indeed, a beautiful wedding dress laid out for me. I cried even harder as I ran my hands over the soft silk folds of the white dress, taking in every detail. Meg helped me to wash and dress and pulled my hair up into a lovely upswept style that complemented the curves of my face.

When I was ready at last, Meg and I walked back down the stairs and out into the garden, which had been transformed into a glowing wonderland in my absence. I don't know how they got it done so quickly, but the entire garden was filled with red and white roses and beautiful filligreed lanters were hung everywhere and shed a soft glow over everyone present. Soft music filled the garden and I saw that there were several musicians standing behind and to the left of the priest.

I could not believe that Erik had done all of this. I knew that he must have had some help from Madame Giry, Meg and Nadir, but for him to allow Raoul and Claudia there and have musicians and people that he didn't know and expose himself to the possibility of rude stares, whispers and ridicule was unbelievable. What it must have cost him to do this for me! I looked around for him and finally found him standing next to Nadir. He looked up and saw me, then moved to take his place next to the priest as I began to walk slowly toward him. My eyes held his and tears spilled down my cheeks as I finally reached his side. He took my hands in his and I saw that he was crying freely now as well. We spoke our vows reverently, both of us nearly unable to get the words out for the crying.

I heard the priest say that Erik could kiss his bride, but it was far away. He lowered his head to mine and, as our lips met, our souls finally melded into one. The world around us ceased to exist for us as we lost ourselves in each other. When, at last, we drew apart, I blinked and looked around to find that the garden had gone completely silent and there was not a single person in attendance that did not have tears upon their cheeks. My face broke into a huge smile as the priest finally stammered that we were man and wife and the spell was broken.

Gay music flowed from the musicians' instruments as Erik and I were congratulated. If I live to be a hundred years old I will never forget that moment. All of the moments that followed were but icing on the cake, as the saying goes.


	28. Epilogue

Epilogue

As I stated in the beginning, I don't regret even a moment of all that I went through to be with the man that I love. I would love to say that Erik and I lived happily ever after, but though we were happy, it was never as simple for us as it was for other couples. We had some hard times to get through and though there were times when I would have cheerfully packed up and walked away, I was always held back by the thought of how much Erik truly loved and needed me. It never took me long to realize that I needed him just as much as he needed me.

Living with Erik has quite possibly been the hardest thing I've ever done, but it has been worth every minute. I've never known someone with so much love to give! He amazes me nearly every day with some small show of kindness that I didn't expect. I love him with my whole heart and soul, but I know that my love for him is a paltry thing when compared to the love he bears for me. Sometimes I wonder how this could be the same man they called the Angel of Death, but inevitably, something will arouse his temper and I will be reminded that there is another, very dark and dangerous side to him. He still frightens me at times.

His genius is a gift and a burden, I've learned. He disappears for days at a time composing or designing, not eating, not sleeping and completely unaware of my presence. It is during these times that I am most frightened, for it is as if he does not even recognize me when I go to him and try to coax him to eat something or get some sleep. His temper is terrible to behold at these times, and I've learned to stay away from his music room or workshop during his creative phases. When he has come back to himself he is generally exhausted and will sleep for hours and hours. When he awakens, it's as if he had never disappeared in the first place and he always seems slightly surprised to see a new composition there among his works or a new design upon his desk. I think sometimes it secretly scares him too, though he'd never admit it.

I suppose the most trying thing we went through was when I learned I was pregnant. I had so many warring emotions within me. I was elated to learn I was going to be a mother, but deep down inside I was terrified. I was afraid to admit it, even to myself, but I worried that the baby would be born with Erik's face. I know it was terribly wicked of me, but I couldn't help it! Oh, there was no doubt that I would love any child I had, no matter what he or she may look like, but I knew what a hard life faced any child that looked like Erik. So, it was not for myself that I worried, but for the child growing inside me.

I eventually screwed up the courage to tell Erik we were going to have a baby and I watched as the same emotions played across his unmasked face. I tried to comfort him, to reassure him, but he saw through me. He could see that I was terrified and he misunderstood, thinking I was upset because I couldn't love a child that looked like him. I suppose that his insecurities were just so deeply ingrained within him that he couldn't see the obvious: I loved him so why wouldn't I love a child who looked like him? We had terrible fights during those months and I feared more than once I would miscarry and, at the end, I'm ashamed to say I almost welcomed that possibility if it would only restore the trust that had grown between Erik and me.

If ever there was a time when Erik and I grew apart, it was then. By the time I actually went into labor we were barely speaking, and both of us were miserable. I seriously contemplated having the baby and just moving back into my old townhouse in Paris and raising it alone. The labor was long and grueling, but in the end, I had a beautiful and perfect baby boy in my arms. And that, my son, is the reason I have written my tale. It is all because of you.

Erik came to visit me shortly after you were born and, when I looked into his eyes, all was forgiven in an instant. He took you from me and held you, looking as if he were terrified he would break you or inflict some injury upon you simply by holding you. When the midwife had gone, I asked him to remove his mask and he looked at me as if I had just asked him to please find the nearest cliff and leap off it. I had to assure him that you couldn't possibly understand what you were seeing at this point, and, in fact, probably couldn't even really see him at all. I didn't know if this were true, but it calmed him, so I let him think that your eyesight was probably not developed well enough to see him clearly.

Reluctantly, he removed his mask and gazed down at you in wonder. It was the most remarkable thing I have ever seen. I know that people have always said that newborns don't understand and can't smile. Perhaps that is true for other newborns, but you, my son were different from the very beginning. As your father gazed down at you in wonder, you stared right back at him, then your little face broke into a beatific smile as your fist came up of its own accord and struck your father right in his chin. Erik's eyes widened as he looked from you to me and back to you again. From that moment on, you two were nearly inseparable.

And so, I have lived with your father all these years and, though you know the man that he is now, you've never known who he was before and all that we overcame to be together. You are twenty-one now and before long you'll know what its like to be in love. I just hope that you will always remember that there is no obstacle so large that it cannot be overcome. Never be afraid of love, my son. And always look beyond the outer appearance and see the person underneath, even when it appears that there is nothing there worth seeing or saving.

And now, I must go for I hear my husband bellowing for me from downstairs. He has just finished his latest composition and is, apparently, wondering why I haven't yet appeared at his side with sustenance. I hope that you will always remember how very much your parents love you. You have grown into a fine young man and you are more like your father than you will ever know. You make me proud of you every day, my son. Never doubt that you are loved.


End file.
